Court of Misdirection and Malcontent
by Dark Fury 13
Summary: As Nesta tries to come to terms with her impending exile to the Illyrian Mountains with Cassian, a mysterious human male arrives in Velaris claiming to be a magician, and returns to her a precious treasure she believed long ago lost to her. Cassian is suspicious of the male who entered Velaris without detection, and later that night he discovers his suspicions were well warranted.
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks for reading...I have been working on this story while writing the other story I've posted to this fandom, and I have to admit I was hesitant and still am to post a story about Nesta and Cassian as I found it difficult to find their voices and I fear I'll butcher their characters before it is over. Again, I own nothing but the characters I create for this story, the rest belongs to the wonderful world Sara Maas created... **

Court of Misdirection and Malcontent

Chapter One

_Nesta_

Twice my life had been taken from me – twice I'd been forced to live a life I wasn't accustom to, and now my youngest sister, Feyre, had decided to ship me off to the Illyrian Mountains to live. The High Lady of the Night Court ordering me to pack up and move was almost laughable – almost. And Amren, my supposedly closest friend in Prythian, or at least she had been until we had an argument, took the opportunity to debase me in front of everyone present for my exile. The High Lord of Darkness, as I sometimes thought of him, used his power to try to make me sit, like a dog, to be scolded by his mate.

Elian, who would've fought for me, who loved me as deeply as I loved her, was not invited to the meeting. If she had been, she would've have fought for me, would've known I'd been uprooted too many times, but they conveniently excluded her from what I considered my trial. Would they even allow me to say goodbye to her or would they later explain to her that I needed to get away for a while to clear my head?

Cassian seemed none too happy about having to be my escort to the Illyrian Mountains, and although no one said it, I knew he had become my keeper for however long my banishment lasted. Perhaps they hoped that while I was locked away in the mountains with him, I would open my icy cold heart to him and we would live happily ever after. Maybe they thought I'd get swept away by being alone with a man in a secluded cabin, and it would be like one of the romance novels I read. That would never happen under the circumstances. It would be one more instance of being forced into doing something against my will, and I would fight it the same way I fought the new life that had been thrust upon me when I was thrown into the Cauldron.

When Feyre killed a rabbit for the first time to feed us, she'd enabled our father to wallow in grief over our mother's death. He never had to pick himself up and start fresh to build a new better life for us, and that was her fault. She always thought herself above us as she had taken our father's place as being the provider for the family. She thought of me as selfish, using any money she brought home from the pelts she sold to buy myself and Elian frivolous items such as gloves and new dresses. Long suffering Feyre, roaming through the woods to hunt, never realized she was the cause of our father's laziness and unwillingness to work. Why bother when she would do it for him and for us. It never once crossed her mind to stop enabling us – she never learned that valuable lesson I tried to teach her. If she had stopped and our father had been forced to join the world of the living again, she never would have been in the woods to kill the Fae sentry Tamlin had sent over the Wall and we wouldn't have been Made into High Fae.

Feyre had chosen this life, had embraced it fully long before she ever found her mate, back when she decided to return to the Spring Court after Tamlin had sent her home. She loved Prythian and its people, and therefore she believed if given time Elian and I would grow to love it as well. Ever the consummate enabler, she blamed herself for my drinking and sleeping around with a different man every night as if I didn't have a mind of my own – as if she could protect me from myself by removing me from any temptation Velaris had to offer.

She gave me two days to get packed to leave with Cassian and then dismissed me. She looked as if she might have wanted to hug me, but my spine stiffened and I squared my shoulders and I glared icily at her. She stayed where she sat on the couch as I turned to leave, passing by the paintings of everyone dear to her on the way out the door, everyone but me. I would never let her know how much it hurt that she had cut me out of her life and moved on with her own life with her new family. She thought I was cold, but no more cold-hearted than she could be. The difference was that I knew I was being purposefully cold to anyone who tried to get close to me while she deluded herself into thinking she was everyone's savior.

Cassian followed me out of the mansion at a much slower pace, his wings tucked tight behind his back. This was how it would be for the next two days of my life, followed around by an Illyrian watchdog to make certain I didn't embarrass the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court anymore. I didn't speak to him the whole way back to the apartment I had rented and slammed the door shut in his face before he could enter, locking the four locks loud enough he heard them click into place on the other side of the door.

I took a look around the worn out furnishings that had come with the apartment and laughed bitterly. It wouldn't take more than twenty minutes to pack my meager belongings, leaving me almost forty-eight hours to mull over my banishment. I went to the window and peered outside to find Cassian pacing back and forth on the street below. I bristled as he glanced up at me, his hazel eyes holding mine a long moment, and I bared my teeth at him. He grinned and winked at me. My mate – we would kill each other before my imposed exile came to an end.

Hours went by and still he paced outside my window, leaving me trapped inside my apartment. I'd washed my hair and changed into the only clean dress I had left to wear then gathered the rest of my clothes into a heap to wash before I packed them. We'd never gone back to our home to get our own clothes after Hybern's men abducted us, clothes I'd chosen for myself and would've preferred to wear instead of the finely made Fae garments we were forced to buy when Velaris became our new home. These were the things Feyre never considered as she liked everything our new homes had to offer, and I doubted she ever thought about the lives we lived before she went over the Wall the first time.

The sound of music coming from outside drew me out of my troubled thoughts, and I went to the window to find out where the strange, entrancing music was coming from. I narrowed my eyes on Cassian for a moment as he looked down the street then I leaned out the window to see what held his rapt attention. My eyes widened considerably at the sight of a full grown elephant slowly making its way up the street with a dark-haired man sitting atop its back. Acrobats tumbled and did flips in the air while four men created the eerily beautiful music that had drawn my attention. Two men drove the covered wagons that trailed behind the odd group of travelers as they made their way toward us and slowed to a stop in front of Cassian.

As one of the acrobats handed him a piece of paper to read, the dark-haired man looked up at me, his deep brown eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiled. "Make a fist, beautiful lady," he called out to me, and at first I thought to refuse him, but as Cassian growled at him, I raised a hand and clenched it. "Good, now concentrate on your hand and think of something you wish for – concentrate." I did as he said, tightening my fist as I concentrated on it. "Now open it." I peeled my fingers open one at a time and gasped at the sight of the pearl necklace in my hand. "Look at the clasp, angel."

I did as he asked and noticed that the initials C.A. had been engraved in the gold. My mother's initials, and just like my mother's necklace, the very last pearl before the clasp was missing. "How?" was all I could think to say, looking from the necklace to the man – man not High Fae. His ears were perfectly rounded while mine and Cassian's were pointed. "How did you find my mother's necklace?"

"Magic," he chuckled lightly, patting the elephant on its head. "Come to my show tonight and perhaps I will be able to impress you again."

"How did you cross the Wall and make it into Velaris?" Cassian said, crumpling the paper in his hand. "You should not have been able to cross into Velaris."

"A magician never reveals his secrets," the man said, unfazed by Cassian's menacing demeanor or rigid stance. "Come to the show tonight at the Rainbow, and I will do my best to give you more to wonder about than just how I entered your lands."

"I see magic being performed on a daily basis." He tilted his head to the side to read the banner on the elephant's back. "No magic trick you perform will astonish me, Tristan."

"Maybe he doesn't want to see your show, but I do," I called out, hands trembling as I clasped the pearls around my throat. "What time will it start?"

"Eight o'clock." Pointing to the pearls, Tristan added, "She wanted you to have them. Come tonight and I will attempt to make this full grown elephant disappear."

"Impossible," Cassian uttered, shaking his head. "No human male can make an elephant disappear. Most Fae could not even accomplish such a feat."

"Then I guess I will astonish you after all," Tristan countered, giving the elephant a gentle nudge to move on toward the other side of the Sidra. "I look forward to seeing you tonight, Nesta," he called out without looking back at us, and I drew in another sharp breath at the sound of my name coming from his full lips when I knew neither I nor Cassian had told him what it was. "And you as well, Cassian."

My hand went to the necklace around my throat, gently rolling the pearls between my fingers. It was impossible. My father had been forced to sell them to help pay for the debts he owed, but they were my mother's pearls and she had told me once they would be mine one day. She had wanted me to have them, and Tristan knew it. For the first time in a very long time, I smiled a genuine smile, and went to unlock the four locks barring Cassian from entering my apartment.

XxXxXxX

"It was nothing more than a trick," Cassian said for the twelfth time, eyeing the pearls around my throat as he walked beside me along the cobbled street. "He must have learned about your mother somehow and had a fake necklace made to rob you of your money."

"My mother died a long time ago," I said flatly, picking up my pace in hopes of putting distance between us. His strides lengthened to match mine only pausing here and there to greet everyone we passed by on our way to the Rainbow. "No one other than me and my father knew she wanted to give me her pearls, and he sold them against her wishes." I cast a sidelong glance in his direction and scowled at him. "I have seen street magicians before, Cassian, and not one of them impressed me as much as Tristan did today. So if you don't want to go to his show then go annoy someone else."

"No, I think I would like to see an elephant disappear," he gritted out, and that's when I knew for certain that he'd been given the task of keeping a constant eye on me until we left for the Illyrian Mountains. "I sent word to Rhysand and Azriel about this magician entering Velaris without expressed permission so don't be surprised if they decide to come to see the show as well."

Anger coiled in my chest. "Are you so threatened by an obviously human man that you needed to call for backup? What a coward you are, Cassian."

"A human male who slipped past our barriers without detection," he countered as if he wasn't powerful enough to deal with any threat Tristan posed on his own. "If all he does is simple tricks to entertain the crowd, he will have nothing to worry about."

There was no point in talking to him when he'd already made up his mind about Tristan. We would only end up arguing, and I didn't want to spoil one of my last remaining nights of freedom on trying to prove Tristan was harmless. We walked the rest of the way to the Rainbow of Velaris in strained silence, and I when we arrived I was surprised by the size of the crowd gathered to see Tristan perform. Perhaps, they too, had experience something they couldn't explain in his presence, and wanted to relive the wonderment of those precious moments when his magic had been just for them alone.

The elephant was tethered to a tree nearby munching on a bale of hay, and some of the younger Fae were staring at the magnificent creature with wide-eyed curiosity. I had never seen an elephant either, and would've loved to get a closer look, but Cassian steered me toward the front of the ringed off area where the performance would take place. As Cassian had predicted Azriel and Rhysand made an appearance, and I rolled my eyes at how the crowd fell over themselves to greet their High Lord and the shadowsinger. By the time they made it to where we stood, Tristan appeared in front of us inside the ringed off area. He just appeared – he didn't winnow, and that right there set the three men beside me on edge. Dressed all in black, his shirt was left unbuttoned to show off his rock hard abs and the heavy diamond chains around his throat. Many of the women pushed forward at the sight of the gorgeous man who was wearing coal liner to darken his thick lashes to make him look more mysterious.

"Thank you for coming, everyone. My name is Tristan, but my friends call me Tris," he greeted, his gaze lingering on Cassian and Azriel's wings a long moment and the two of them glared at him in response. "I was going to start the show with some simple magic tricks, but I see that we have two Illyrian's in the crowd. Would one of you please come up here to help me perform something I've been working on for a while now?" Rhysand nodded to Cassian and reluctantly he circled around the makeshift barrier and walked to Tristan. "I couldn't help but notice your beautiful wings – it must be amazing to be able to fly."

"It is," Cassian grudgingly admitted.

"I wonder though," Tristan continued when Cassian failed to elaborated, "could you fly or levitate without the use of your wings?"

"Why would I try to fly without my wings?"

"It was just a question," he said, turning away from Cassian to look out at the crowd. "I've always dreamed of flying, but without wings it would be impossible, right?" The crowd voiced their agreement and Rhysand folded his arms across his chest. "Watch…." Raising his arms out to the sides, his feet lifted off the ground, and he rose up into the air. But he wasn't finished – no, he had just started, and everyone stared wide-eyed, including Rhysand, as he levitated above us before he moved to hover over the river. The crowd went wild, applauding the human man who could levitate as if he was born to it instead of learning to defy gravity. He slowly returned to the ground and lowered his arms.

"How did you do that?" Rhysand called out to him, clearly shaken that a human could do such a thing even if it was only some form of a trick none of us could figure out.

"If I told you how it was done, it would ruin the illusion," Tristan said, and after Cassian returned to my side, he proceeded to perform trick after trick with his assistances to the amazement of the crowd. Several times he picked men or women from the audience to help him amaze all of us with intricate, unexplainable illusions that baffled Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand. Finally one of his assistances rode atop the elephant into the ringed off area and with the help of another scantily clad woman, Tristan covered the elephant with a large velvet blanket. "As you can see, there is no way to hide Betsy and my lovely assistant Aria due to the river behind us," he pointed out, and then motioned for the crowd to gather around in a semi-circle to block any other way for the elephant to be moved off the makeshift stage. "I want everyone to concentrate on making Betsy vanish. Concentrate – picture the elephant vanishing into thin air – are you ready?" He paused for dramatic effect, then shouted, "Three...two...one," and pulled off the blanket to reveal an empty space where the elephant had been. Applause erupted through the crowd, people wondering aloud how he had accomplished the illusion, and Tristan took a bow.

"Impossible," Cassian muttered, narrowing his eyes on the stage to try to find the elephant. "Where did it go, Az?"

"I don't know," Azriel said, resting his hand on Truth-Teller.

"He must know about the between places we can store things until they are needed," Rhysand rationalized. "That's the only way it could be done."

"I have one more illusion I would like to perform, but I will need someone from the audience to help me," Tristan said, and although I hadn't raise my hand like the other women or shouted for him to pick me, he pointed to me, curled his finger for me to join him, and with a snap of his fingers the ropes surrounding his makeshift stage vanished.

"No, you are not going to be a part of this spectacle," Cassian said, catching hold of my arm, but I shirked free of his grasp and went to stand beside him.

"Nesta, right?" Tristan said and I nodded as the crush of people moved in closer obscuring my view of Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand as they remained rooted to their spots. "I'm going to attempt to perform something I've only done once before, but I promise you that you will be fine." Again, I nodded and touched my fingers to the pearls that he had returned to me. I didn't care what Cassian said, they were my mother's pearls. "Look into my eyes and listen to the sound of my voice." I did as he said, holding his gaze, feeling as if I was melting into their molten dark chocolate depths. "In three…two…one…sleep," he said, and tapped me on the forehead between my eyes. It didn't work, but not wanting to ruin his trick, I closed my eyes and let my body go limp. It turned out that even if I hadn't fallen asleep, it wouldn't have ruined anything, and I found myself floating in the air. "And now, for the grand finale," he added, and covering the both of us with the same blanket he used to make the elephant vanish, he counted down from three one final time. I briefly heard Cassian shout my name before the crowd vanished as did the blanket and the Rainbow, and the two of us were alone sitting in a beautiful field of wildflowers.

"Where are we?" I snapped, looking around and finding nothing but flowers as far as the eye could see. "Take me back to the Rainbow now!"

"Do you really want to go back there?" he asked, picking one of the wildflowers, crushing the petals in his hand then gently rubbed his hands together and the flower magically became whole again. "I read your mind and you were suffocating living in that place. They were going to send you away though, weren't they? Without giving you a choice, they were going to send you to live somewhere you didn't want to go. If you want to go back, we will return as easily as we left, but if you want some time to find yourself again then you can travel with us." He snapped his fingers and the elephant, the group of acrobats and covered wagons appeared. "The choice is yours, Nesta."

"I don't want to go the Illyrian Mountains," I admitted after considering his offer for several long moments. I would be a fool to trust him, but his offer of freedom from the Night Court was too tempting to pass up. Feyre made it clear she wanted me gone, and maybe it wasn't how she intended to get rid of me, but it worked for me. "If I stay with you and your traveling show, I can return home anytime I wish?"

"Anytime you wish," he said with a nod.

"And you will tell me how you returned my mother's pearls to me?"

"Yes, I will tell you how your mother led me to those pearls, but not today. Today, we have to travel to our next show on the other side of the Wall."

"We are leaving Prythian?" I said, a knot forming in my throat at the thought of how the humans hated and feared all Fae, myself included.

"Don't worry, angel, we can hide those ears and inner glow so they'll never know you're a High Fae," he promised and I believed him. "Once you've given yourself the time you need to deal with what was done to you, you can decide if you want to return to Velaris or to pursue anything else that interests you."

"Then I guess we should get going," I said, giving only a momentary thought to how Cassian must have felt when he realized the trick was on him and the Night Court. "I am ready to put Prythian behind me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for reading and a special thanks for those who reviewed my story. I should state that I love, love, love Criss Angel and I'm always left wondering how he pulls off the magic he performs for the audience. One second he's on the stage and within a breath he's on the other side of the auditorium, and I'm always left baffled by how he did it. And that's why I toyed with the idea of creating a character that would baffle not only Cassian but the rest of the Inner Circle as well as they try to find him. As always, I own nothing and am just playing with the wonderful characters Sara Maas created...thanks again...:)**

Chapter Two

_Cassian_

I didn't trust Tristan and definitely didn't want Nesta to be a part of his act, but she did it anyway. Right then and there I should have picked her up and carried her away instead of letting her go to the makeshift stage to help him perform his last illusion. And the moment he covered her floating body with the blanket, I knew – I knew that I'd made a huge mistake. Azriel pushed through the crowd of Fae waiting for Tristan and Nesta to return, and went to the stage. The shadows seeped out of his skin and swirled around the stage, searching for a hint of where Tristan and Nesta might have disappeared to, to no avail.

We were so focused on the show and the male who possessed magic no human should possess, we'd failed to notice that his fellow performers and workers along with their two wagons had also vanished. Azriel called it misdirection – a trick used by magicians to keep the audience focused on one thing while something else was happening just out of view. Still, it was hard to believe that two wagons and at least twenty performers could disappear without anyone noticing anything out of the ordinary.

Rhysand sent me to have the sentries close the borders to anyone trying to leave and to send out patrols to scour the land until the magician and Feyre's sister were found. He and Azriel stayed behind to question everyone who had attended the show in hopes that someone saw the performers and workers leave to give us a direction to start our search. No one could recall seeing any of Tristan's cohorts. They expanded their search to ask any of the shop owners and street vendors if they had seen two wagons loaded with humans pass by, and again no one could recall seeing them.

None of us wanted to be the one to tell Feyre that Nesta had been abducted and the male responsible had vanished without a trace. She would blame herself and then she would look to me for answers as to why I'd allowed Nesta to go to the magic show. Rhysand and Azriel wouldn't escape blame either as they just stood there watching with me as Nesta disappeared. It defied logic that a mere human could possess the kind of power it would take to pull of the abduction of a female in front of a crowd of people while every single eye was on him.

Although Rhysand kept his emotions in check while dealing with anyone he and Azriel questioned, he was beyond furious. Never before had anyone infiltrated his Court to strike a personal blow against him or anyone he considered family. He may not have liked Nesta, but she was Feyre's sister and my mate, and I couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd do to Tristan and his cohorts when we found them and whoever helped them escape.

No one in Velaris would ever think to harm Rhysand or Feyre's family, and that left only the Court of Nightmares to search once we finished with our separate tasks. As Rhysand didn't want to upset Feyre with the news without having some sort of lead as to where Tristan had taken her, to soften the blow, the three of us traveled to the Court of Nightmares without her, Mor or Amren. Here he didn't need to hide his dark mood, and every resident living within the mountain felt it tremble and shudder with his wrath.

Keir, Mor's father and Rhysand's uncle sat upon Rhysand's throne on the raised dais, overseeing the beating of a bone-thin, blonde-haired female by a muscular male who outweighed her by at least two hundred pounds. His beefy fist slammed into her face, blood splattering the floor as she cried for mercy, and I steeled myself against the urge to pulverize him. This was the way of things in the Court of Nightmares, and whatever her offense Rhysand would have likely ordered the same punishment to keep the Fae living within the mountain from trying to rebel against his rule.

Keir noticed Rhysand and held up a hand to stop the punishment of the girl, and reluctantly relinquished the throne to the High Lord. "High Lord," he said, giving a mock bow before his brown eyes slid to me and Azriel then he focused on Rhysand. "It has been a while since you lasted visited. Had I known you were coming, I would have delayed the girl's punishment for your enjoyment."

It was a challenge. If he could prove Rhysand wasn't as cold and merciless as every Fae in the Court of Nightmares believed him to be, they would begin to openly rebel against his rule, and the worst of the worst would become emboldened to venture out of the mountain to terrorize every Court.

"Where is she, Keir?" Rhysand said in a low, deadly calm tone, and those who had been watching the girl being tortured, shrunk back into the shadows in fear.

"It might be helpful to know who you are speaking of," Keir said, his gaze trailing to the empty throne, making his intent to someday rule the Court of Nightmares clear. "Or am I to guess who you are talking about?"

"Azriel – Cassian, search every nook and cranny for the girl," Rhysand said, purposely omitting who we were looking for as Keir would latch onto the fact that he would do anything for Feyre and would use it against Rhysand. As Azriel and I headed in different directions to do as he asked, he added, "If she is found hidden anywhere within this mountain, you will be the one punished for it, Uncle."

"Search to your heart's content." Keir shrugged unconcernedly. "You won't find the girl you are looking for because she is not here." He didn't sound remotely concerned merely curious as he added, "Has your High Lady grown tired of you and run off to find another male to bed?" His pale lips parted to continue his taunt, but no sound other than a gurgling noise came out of his mouth.

That was the last I heard of their conversation, heading out of the throne room to search for Nesta. Room after room after room, I left in shambles looking for any sign that Nesta had been kept there even briefly, and found nothing for my effort. Azriel had no better luck than me, and after the three of us returned to Velaris Rhysand told us that Keir had been telling the truth about not being involved in Nesta's abduction. He'd entered Keir's mind along with numerous other Fae and not one of them knew anything about Tristan or a plan to abduct Feyre's sister to get to Rhysand.

It was well after noon by the time we went to tell Feyre about Nesta's disappearance. Rhysand called her into the study and asked her to shut the door to keep the news from Elian for a while longer. After she took a seat beside him on the couch, he laced his fingers through hers and began to explain about Tristan and the magic show, and the more he spoke the angrier she became, her lips pressing into a thin line as she looked from him to Azriel and finally her blue-grey eyes landed on me.

"You're saying a human male abducted my sister in front of not only two Illyrian generals but the High Lord of the Night Court as well, and they just vanished into thin air – no trace of them whatsoever?"

"The borders have been closed and anyone trying to leave will be detained until it can be verified that they had nothing to do with Nesta's disappearance," Rhysand assured her. "I have patrols out scouring every inch of the Night Court…I promise you we will find your sister."

"And you're certain this magician was human and not a High Fae glamoured to appear human?" she said, and admittedly none of us had considered that possibility. "Tamlin could have hired mercenaries and glamoured them to look like humans to get revenge for the fall of the Spring Court."

"Even if he did have some hand in this," I spoke up, "it would have been impossible for him to winnow them away from the Rainbow without us noticing him."

"It wouldn't hurt to check the Spring Court for any sign of Nesta and her abductors," Rhysand said. "Cassian, find Lucien and have him go with you to speak to Tamlin. If you think he has anything to do with this after your conversation with him, I want you to come back to Velaris and let me deal with him."

Azriel cleared his throat to gain our attention. "That would be a very bold move for a High Lord with no armies to back him if we chose to attack the Spring Court in retaliation. He would have to be out of his mind to even consider it."

"He isn't in his right mind," Rhysand said. "When I went to the Spring Court after Solstice, he wasn't in good shape. His mind could've easily snapped since then and now he is seeking revenge of his own, taking Feyre's sister away from her to pay her back for ruining his Court."

"To what end, Rhys?" Azriel asked, the voice of reason amidst the rest of us who would be out for blood if anyone harmed Nesta. "He stands to gain nothing by abducting Nesta and would likely lose any support he might still have in the other Courts if he is found responsible. I think we need to consider the enemies we have in other Courts instead of just deciding Tamlin is responsible without proof."

"If he has nothing to do with her abduction then he has nothing to worry about," Feyre said, but I could tell she hoped Tamlin was responsible for Nesta's disappearance as did Rhysand. Neither of them wanted to believe one of the other Courts would be so daring as to abduct Nesta in front of us, and if one or more of Courts were responsible, this could be the beginning of another war. "Cassian and Lucien will speak to him on our behalf, and if they believe he is responsible for this high crime against the Night Court his lands will be stripped from him and he will spend the rest of his days in a dungeon in the Court of Nightmares."

"Azriel, while they are in the Spring Court, I want you to spy on the other Courts to learn if they had any involvement in the abduction," Rhysand said, getting to his feet and holding out a hand for Feyre to take. "I think it goes without saying that we don't want to upset Elian so for now we will keep Nesta's disappearance to ourselves."

XxXxXx

When I found Lucien at a local tavern drowning his sorrows in alcohol, I snatched the bottle of whiskey out of his hand and made quick work of telling him everything. From what I'd heard from Azriel and Rhysand, he hadn't gone to see Tamlin since Winter Solstice. They'd argued and after Lucien left Tamlin had packed up all of his belongings and had left them on Lucien's doorstep. That was the last time he'd seen him. Nonetheless, Lucien's loyalty to Tamlin would always trump any oaths he'd sworn to the Night Court, and he didn't like it one bit that we were being sent to the Spring Court to question him.

"Tamlin didn't have anything to do with this," Lucien said, his golden eye whizzing while his russet eye held my gaze. "I know you and Feyre need someone to blame for her disappearance, but not every bad thing that happens in Feyre's life is Tamlin's fault. Did you even consider the possibility that Nesta planned her own abduction? It's no secret she hates living in Prythian, and I've heard from several patrons of local drinking establishments that she doesn't like living under her youngest sister's rule. It's far more likely that she got sick of all of this." He waved a hand around the bar encompassing the other patrons. "And decided she wanted out – but how does one get out when the High Lord and Lady of the Court track your every move – you have to disappear."

"Nesta wouldn't do that," I said even though his theory did make sense. It didn't take Rhysand's mind reading abilities to know that Nesta wasn't happy and had become a shell of her former self in the short amount of time she'd lived in Velaris. She'd lost a lot of weight, drank too much, and slept around with any male who happened to be at the same tavern as her. "She loves Elian too much to leave her."

"But she was leaving her, wasn't she?" He lifted a brow and pointed at his golden eye as a way of saying that he'd learned of the plan to send Nesta away by using the magic the golden eye possessed. "Feyre and Rhysand were sending her away with you to the Illyrian Mountains. She must've known that at some point, her sister and Rhysand would push her to accept the mate bond between the two of you, and perhaps that was enough for her to decide to plan her escape. As you said, she was eager to go see this magic show even though magic abounds in Prythian. Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

"You're wrong," I gritted out, siphons beginning to glow red with my rising anger. "Nesta knows I would never force her to be with me even with the mate bond. And as I also told you, she was only interested in this magician because he somehow made her mother's pearl necklace appear in her hand."

"And you honestly think Tamlin traveled around the mortal lands for several months searching for a necklace he knew nothing about to put together this elaborate plan to abduct her in front of you, Azriel and Rhysand?" He shook his head and sighed. "You can tell Feyre and Rhysand for me that I'll pass on being involved in yet another attempt to harass and intimidate Tamlin."

"It was an order not a request," I said, knowing in my gut that he was right, but I still needed to hear Tamlin say he had nothing to do with her abduction. "If he says he wasn't involved, we will leave without causing any trouble."

"The moment we step onto his lands uninvited we will be causing trouble." He grabbed the bottle of whiskey out of my hand and took a long pull of the fiery liquid. "Let's get this over with before I work up the liquid courage to tell Rhysand and Feyre to go to hell."

XxXxXx

It only took one look at the crumbling manor with doors hanging off the hinges and thick thorny vines growing through broken windows for me to decide that Tamlin hadn't planned Nesta's abduction. At one time he rivaled Rhysand as one of the most powerful High Lords ever created, but now he was as broken as manor he lived in. Nonetheless, he might have seen Tristan and his traveling band of criminals cross through Spring Court lands, and since we had already made the trip to his lands it wouldn't hurt to ask him a few questions.

Lucien lagged behind me as we made our way to the front door, cursing under his breath the whole way, and I couldn't blame him as I would've felt the same way if Azriel or Rhysand had been brought so low by another Court. Even though the manor stood wide open to any intruder, no magical barriers to keep out any enemy that might try to kill him in his sleep, I knocked before entering what could only be considered a tomb. Glass crunched beneath our feet, and several times we had to sidestep broken furniture as we walked through the remains of a once beautiful home. Deep claw marks raked along almost every wall we passed by on our way to his study, and I winced at the beautiful paintings that were torn to shreds, some still hanging crooked on the walls while others laid broken on the marble floor.

I didn't often think about Tamlin or what we had done to him, but now confronted with the broken home of an equally broken male, it didn't sit well with me. It wasn't for me to decide if he deserved the fate that had befallen him, yet I found myself grudgingly feeling sorry for him. And with Nesta gone, taken from me while I stood by and watched, I keenly felt the fear he must have gone through when Rhysand stole Feyre away on the day they were supposed to be married. I would do anything to get her back – I would be brutal and vicious to save her from her abductor. As that realization struck me, I finally understood why Tamlin had done what he did to save the female he loved.

The door to the study was left slightly ajar, and I pushed it open to find the heavy curtains shut tight against the sunlight. Two lit candles placed on opposite sides of his desk were the only source of light in the otherwise dark room, but from the dim flickering light I could see that this one room had been left untouched by his rage. He sat motionless, staring into the flames, his hands clasped in his lap as he slouched in his chair. Light and shadow played along the hollow gauntness of his cheeks, and I could see that he had lost a lot of weight since the war had ended. The study reeked of strong whiskey and as I peered down at the floor I discovered empty bottles scattered around the room, some broken from being thrown on the ground. One empty bottle sat on his desk along with a half full one, but he didn't appear drunk just very sad.

"Welcome home, Lucien," Tamlin rasped without looking away from the flickering glow of the candle, and Lucien's shoulders sagged. "You'll have to excuse the mess as I wasn't expecting company."

"I would've come sooner –"

Tamlin waved a hand to stop his excuse, and said, "After your last visit ended badly and I dumped all your belongings on your doorstep, I have no doubt you were forced to come with Cassian." He finally looked up at me, his dull green eyes taking in my Illyrian leathers and the knives sheathed at my sides. "Are you here to finish what Feyre started?"

"If I was sent to kill you it would have been pathetically easy seeing as how you have no shields around your home," I pointed out as Lucien looked toward the door as if he planned to run out of the study at any second. "You should be more careful, High Lord. Anyone could slip inside the manor and slit your throat while you sleep."

"Why are you here, Cassian?" he asked, purposely disregarding my warning about his safety.

"Have you seen a dark-haired human traveling through your lands with a group of performers and an elephant?"

Scratching at his stubbled jaw, his gaze shifted from me to Lucien and back to me again. "The male you are speaking of traveled through my lands a few weeks ago. The male – Tris asked if they could make camp near the border of the Summer Court, and after he agreed to allow me to ride the elephant I granted them the use of my land."

"Do you know where they were heading after they left the Spring Court?" Lucien asked as he walked to the window and pulled back the curtains, sunlight streaming into the room. Tamlin blinked hard against the bright light filling the room, forcing me to wonder if he shut himself up in darkness every day. "Did he mention the Night Court?" he added, moving to the next window to open the curtains.

"He didn't say, and I didn't ask." As Tamlin spoke, my eyes were drawn to the stains covering his pale green tunic. It was ruined and he didn't even seem to notice. Nor had he taken a brush to his snarled golden blonde hair in days if not weeks and likely hadn't bathed in as many days. "Why are the two of you so interested in him?"

"He abducted Nesta," Lucien said, the color draining from his bronzed skin as he saw how bad his best friend looked. "If you have any useful information that leads to his capture, Feyre will be grateful and she might even consider forgiving you."

"It sounds as if she would do just about anything to have her sister returned safely to her, including lowering herself to hear me grovel for her forgiveness." His claws slid out from beneath the skin above his knuckles, and a spark of vivid green returned to his eyes. "Refresh my memory – Nesta was the cold-hearted bitch, right? No…wait, I'm confusing her with Feyre." I opened my mouth to defend Nesta and Feyre, but he cut me off. "There's the useless doe-eyed fawn, the cold-hearted bitch, and ahh…yes, the sharp-tongued viper. My suggestion would be to give Tris a few days and he'll be begging you to take her back."

Lucien choked on a laugh, and I glared at him. "You're not funny, High Lord," I snapped, wings flaring outward. "We are offering you a chance at redemption, but instead of setting aside your anger to help us, you're making jokes at my High Lady and mate's expense."

"You'll have to forgive me for finding the whole situation amusing," Tamlin said, the beginnings of a smile pulling at his lips. "But I sincerely hope that retrieving the female that was stolen from the Night Court works out better for you than it did for me. That being said, if I were you I would be thanking the Cauldron for sending someone to take her off my hands."

"Did you help them abduct her?" I gritted out, siphons glowing red, and it took all the willpower I possessed not to fly across the desk to beat the hell out of him.

"No, I would much rather paint myself with chicken blood, tie myself to a tree, and let a Suriel pick my bones clean than to tangle with any of the Archeron sisters."

"Tamlin – please, for my sake, can you try to recall anything that might help us find her?" Lucien implored, likely realizing how close I was to forgetting Tamlin was a High Lord, and pulverized him with my fists. Or at least I would try to beat the smirk off his face, but in the end I would lose against his strength and immense power. "In exchange for any information you might have, I will return to the Spring Court for as long as you want me to stay."

"That bad in the Night Court, huh?" When Lucien failed to respond, he let loose a heavy breath. "Tris told me the two of you would be paying me a visit soon – well, that's not exactly what he said. He said an old friend and an enemy would pay me a visit." He opened the desk drawer and pulled out an envelope to hand to me. "He asked me to give this to my enemy and at the time I thought he meant Rhysand, but I see now he was referring to you."

I stared at the sealed envelope and then to him. "What does it say?"

"I don't know." Shrugging a shoulder, he rested back in his leather chair. "He asked me not to open it and as he has been the only person to show me any true kindness since Feyre destroyed the Spring Court, I did as he asked."

I studied him a moment longer, trying to decide if he was lying to me, and then ripped open the envelope.

_Dear Cassian,_

_I hope you enjoyed my performance at the Rainbow. Did I leave you wondering how I accomplished my final illusion? Were you as astonished as I hoped you would be? I certainly hope so as every magician always wants to leave any audience wondering if it wasn't a trick at all or if it really was just an illusion. _

_If you are reading this letter it can only mean that Nesta decided she didn't want to return once the show was over. Respect her wishes and when she is ready to come home she will. If you fail to do so, you will destroy her as your High Lady destroyed Tamlin. _

_Please thank Tamlin for his hospitality, and since I don't like feeling indebted to anyone, I left a gift for him outside the manor._

_Tris_

Somehow, weeks before the performance at the Rainbow, Tristan had known I would come to the Spring Court with Lucien. He had also known everything that would happen leading up to Nesta's disappearance, and to prove he would always be two steps ahead of any attempt I made to locate him, he left me the letter as a taunt.

"What did he say?" Lucien asked, but I was already stalking toward the door to go outside.

He followed as did Tamlin, glass crunching beneath our feet as we made our way to the front door. I stopped short in the doorway, mouth dropping open at the sight of a beautiful dapple gray stallion with a red bow around its neck grazing on grass a short distance from the entranceway. Jaw clenching, the note crumpled in my hand. I'd been so focused on Tamlin and then the letter I failed to detect his presence on the grounds of the manor.

"He has to be around here somewhere," Lucien said, pushing passed me to go outside, Tamlin right behind him, and the two of them walked to the stallion, leaving me to follow them. His golden eye whizzed as he took in the magnificent creature then let out a low whistle through his teeth. "This stallion must have cost him a fortune."

"He probably stole it," I gritted out, narrowing my eyes to survey the area for any sign of Tristan. "He had to have seen us enter the manor and then when he knew our focus would be on Tamlin, he dropped off the stallion."

"Clever of him," Tamlin said, admiring the stallion he now owned. "And he has good taste." For all his wealth and power, he had no one to share his life with, and that made him an easy target for someone like Tristan. Fake kindness and expensive gifts were all Tristan needed to offer him to make him an accessory to the crimes he committed, and he didn't even realize how bad it looked for him to accept the stallion when he knew what Tristan had done. Feyre and Rhysand would see it as payment for services rendered, and if anything bad happened to Nesta the blame would fall squarely on his shoulders. "I think I'm going to call him Stormbringer."

"For your own sake, get rid of the stallion," I warned, knowing he wouldn't listen to any advice I might give him. "You'll only make it worse for yourself if you keep it."

"Why else would I have called him Stormbringer." His lips pressed into a thin line, and he shook his head. "I'm not getting rid of the stallion. I have proven quite spectacularly that I am a terrible judge of character." His gaze strayed to Lucien, and he sighed. "From my supposed best friend to the bitch who ruined everything I worked so hard to build for the Fae of my Court, I judged wrong and it cost me everything." Moving around Lucien, he climbed onto Stormbringer's back, and pulled off the bow, throwing it onto the ground. "Let them bring on the storm and I will weather it as I have weathered every torrential downpour Feyre brought into my life."

"Will you allow our armies to search your lands for them?" I asked even though we would scour the Spring Court to find Nesta with or without his permission.

"Do I have your word that once they are finished they will leave?"

"Yes, you have my word," I said, holding his gaze until he gave a curt nod. "I will return by nightfall with my army and make camp at the border of the Autumn Court." When he nodded again, I added, "Lucien made a deal with you and he will honor it. Until such a time comes when you no longer want him to stay with you, this will once again be his home."

"Then he has fulfilled his bargain with me as I no longer want him on my lands," he responded flatly, and although I understood his feelings of hurt and anger over everything that transpired between them, I still winced.

"I made a deal with you and I intend to honor it," Lucien said, stubbornly refusing to accept the gift of freedom Tamlin was offering him. Maybe if Elian had shown any interest in him, he would've been relieved that Tamlin didn't expect him to hold to his word, but she hadn't which gave him little reason to want to stay in Velaris. "You're angry, I –" Tamlin kicked Stormbringer into a gallop before Lucien finished speaking, leaving a trail of dust in his wake. Lucien tracked him until he disappeared over a rise then looked to me. "He can be angry all he likes, I'm still staying."

"Yes, you are," I agreed, tucking my wings tight behind my back. "You are going to be my eyes and ears inside the manor. I don't think he was involved in Nesta's abduction, but he's not in his right mind and could easily do something foolish like help Tristan escape capture."

"I'm not going to spy on my best friend, Cassian."

"Yes, you are or Elian will hear from me that you refused to do everything within your power to save her sister."

"Spying on Tamlin isn't going to help you rescue Nesta." Pursing his lips, he shook his head. "No, I won't do it. I won't risk any chance of rekindling our friendship by spying on him. So go ahead and say whatever the hell you'd like to her. I would hope she'd want a male who tries his damnedest to be loyal and trustworthy to the people he cares about, but if not that's a flaw in her character not mine."

I'd hoped to intimidate him, but in the end I couldn't force him to spy on Tamlin anymore than I could force Nesta to stop drowning her pain in alcohol and sex. "Then, at the very least, keep an eye on your friend to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"That much I can do for him and you." He bobbed his head toward the barn, and added, "I'm going to go find Tamlin, but I'll keep an eye out for Tristan and his merry band of criminals. If I find any tracks made by wagons or an elephant, I'll let you know when you return from Velaris."

"Feyre and Rhysand will most likely be joining us in the search so you should prepare Tamlin for their arrival." The color drained from his face, and I grinned before spreading my wings wide and lunching into the air to fly home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for reading and a special thanks to those who took the time to write a review...:)**

Chapter Three

_Nesta_

Within the span of a day I'd gone from drinking myself into mind numbing oblivion and sleeping with random men to riding atop an elephant as it lumbered through the woods. I wouldn't have asked Tristan if I could sit atop the beautiful animal – I wouldn't have even considered it, but he caught me eyeing Betsy from the back of the wagon and offered to give me a ride. At first I stubbornly refused and scowled at him and the men and women sitting beside me in the wagon. Just because I agreed to travel with them didn't mean I wanted to be friends with any of them. They were nothing more than a means to an end – a way to escape living in the Illyrian Mountains with Cassian.

Nonetheless, I kept staring at Betsy and after hearing him ask me for the fourth time, I finally agreed to give it a try. I kept my face bland and unimpressed when he commanded her to lower her trunk and when she did, he told me to step onto it as I'd seen him do and Betsy lifted me up off the ground. He helped me take a seat in front of him, my dress hiked up past my thighs – and then it was amazing. No one would ever believe I rode on an elephant, but it was a memory I would cherish as long as I lived. Not that I would tell Tristan that.

It was well after dark by the time we crossed the border between the human and Fae lands and as it was too dangerous to travel safely, we made camp outside the village Feyre, Elian, and I had lived in before Feyre had crossed the Wall with Tamlin. I didn't stick around to watch them set up their tents or cook dinner over the campfire, choosing instead to stretch my legs. I walked aimlessly for what seemed the longest time, trying not to follow any path that would lead to our old home. It didn't work. I'm wasn't certain what drew me to the abandoned hovel, but something deep inside of me urged me forward through the woods Feyre once hunted, and I came upon the dilapidated dwelling we spent years living in after our mother died.

The door creaked open, and my heart began to pound painfully in my chest at the sight of a dark shadow of a man standing just beyond the threshold. My back stiffened even as a chill of fear raced down my spine, and I couldn't decide what I hate more being afraid or the thought of someone entering my home uninvited.

"Get out of my house," I gritted out with a forced evenness in my tone and a calmness I didn't remotely feel. "Now, before I –"

"Before you what?" Light flared to life, flames flickering in Tristan's outstretched hand. He lifted his hand to hover near his lips, gently blew on the flames, and the fire leapt out of his hand momentarily floating in the air before it vanished and every half-used candle left behind by us when we moved flickered to life. "I didn't want you to miss dinner." Bobbing his head toward the table at a bowl full of some sort of stew, he added, "I can promise you it'll be the worst rabbit stew you've ever tasted, but seeing as how the rabbit had more meat on its bones than you do, I'd suggest you eat every last chunk of meat and ask for seconds."

"Don't tell me what to do, Tristan," I snapped, nostrils flaring. "You think you can do your little magic tricks and I'll forget that you're trespassing? This is my home and you had no right to enter it without my permission."

"Oh, come on, Nessa, you have to be a somewhat impressed by my amazingly skillful prestidigitation," he said, taking a seat in one of the rickety chairs around the table. "Can you be moody and eat at the same time?"

"My name is not Nessa it is Nesta which you already know." I moved around him to take a seat on the opposite side of the table from where he sat. "I'll eat if you tell me how you made my mother's necklace appear."

"I prefer Nessa. It doesn't have such a harsh edge to it," he chuckled lightly as I glared at him. "And to answer your question, I was born with the ability to speak to those who have passed on. It's really rather annoying when the dead interrupt a good night's sleep, but there you have it – I speak to the dead."

"You – spoke to my mother?"

He nudged his head toward my bowl of stew and pointed at it. "I answered your question now eat."

Grudgingly, I picked up the spoon beside the bowl, filled it with a thick piece of meat and a little broth, and grimace the second I took a bite. My nose scrunched as I chewed at the tough, chewy meat, and swallowed it down. "You weren't kidding. This is horrible."

"Yes, it is, but you look half-starved to death, and I've found that horrible food is better than no food at all." Again, he pointed to the bowl and I bared my teeth at him before swallowing down another bite. "I've discovered that if you pinch your nose you can't taste how bad it is," he added with a deep, rich laugh.

"Where did you find the necklace?" I asked, chewing as I spoke as I didn't feel the need to try to impress him with good table manners.

"Your dear, sweet mother harassed me until I finally broke down and performed one of my greatest shows to date for the man who bought the necklace from your father. In exchange for entertaining at a party to celebrate his new business venture, he gave me the necklace as I said it once belonged to the love of my life." As he held my gaze, heat flushed my cheeks, and as I opened my mouth to say that there would never be any sort of romance between us, he added, "Don't worry, Nessa, I have no romantic intentions toward you. I am merely trying to get your mother out of my head so I can get some sleep."

My eyes darted around the small living space, narrowing on the shadows created by the candles in hopes of seeing my mother. "Sh-she's here right now?"

"Close your eyes and concentrate on feeling her presence," he said, and setting my spoon in the bowl I did as he asked, picturing my mother's face, so like my own with only a slight resemblance to both Elain and Feyre – picturing her in her favorite lavender dress with the exquisite pearls around her slender throat – and then I felt it – I felt her hand come to rest on my shoulder and as I breathed in deep I caught the soft floral scent of her favorite perfume. "She's watched over you and has seen how lost and broken you are – she can't be at rest until she knows you will be okay."

Slowly the feeling faded away but the floral fragrance remained as proof she had reached out to me from wherever she was, and my chest tightened. "If this is some sort of trick –"

"Do you think I really liked giving you a necklace that if sold would've fed my family for at least a month? If I wanted to play a trick on you, I assure you I could do so without losing a fortune in the process." Bracing his hands against the table, he pushed to his feet. "You'll never admit it to anyone, but you miss you father and it hurts to think about him – it hurts because there was so much left unsaid between the two of you, and for as much as you thought you hated him…you loved your father in spite of all his glaring faults."

"How did you levitate above the river?" I said to change the subject, the pain I felt over my father's death too raw and fresh to speak about him. "Even the High Lord of the Night Court was rattled by that illusion. How was it accomplished?"

"That discussion is for another time," he said, pointing to my half eaten stew. "I'll leave you to your dinner and the memories you came here to recall."

"If you want to fuck me, I wouldn't mind," I called out as he turned to walk away, stopping him in his tracks. "You think I'm so blind I can't see how you look at me? There's a bed in the other room or we can do it on the table if you'd like."

"You're not drunk, and I'm not interested in an easy fuck," he said, flat out refusing me and insulting me in the same breath. "If you'd like to sleep here tonight, I'll send someone back to stand guard outside."

"Aren't you afraid I might seduce the man you send to protect me?"

"Not really," he chuckled and turned back to look at me. "I've told the men in my family that you have a rare sexually transmitted disease and if they sleep with you their favorite appendage will wither and fall off. Why else would they sit so far away from you in the wagon?"

"You bastard!" I growled, snatching the bowl off the table to heave at him. The bowl made it halfway – halfway then froze in the air, chunks of meat and broth suspended by the magic he possessed.

"What a little spitfire you are." With a snap of his fingers the broth and meat dropped to splatter on the dirty wooden floor. "Look, I know it's devastating not to be able to dull your wits with alcohol and screw random men to momentarily fill the empty hollowness you feel inside, but look on the bright side at least you don't have to eat the rest of that garbage Beth calls dinner."

"You're not funny, Tristan. You have no right to keep me from having sex with whomever I want whenever I want."

"You're right, I don't," he agreed, a smile pulling at his full sensual lips. "But I do have the right to protect my dearest friends from getting their hearts broken by a woman who is as dead inside as any corpse in a cemetery."

I lifted a brow. "Are you including yourself in with the others as someone who would get his heart broken by me?"

"I can see you'd like that, but no, I'm afraid you're not my type." Amusement lit up his rich, molten chocolate eyes as he hitched a thumb over his shoulder at the door. "If you get lonely you're welcome to join us by the fire. Andreas tells the most humorous stories even though most of the laughs he gets are at my expense."

"I think I'll come with you," I said as I got to my feet and circled the table. "Listening to stories where everyone laughs about some stupid thing you did sounds like my idea of a good time."

"Ouch." He tapped at his chest above his heart, and grinned like a fool. "You've wounded me deeply, Nessa. How will I survive the sheer agony of knowing you enjoy laughing at mistakes I've made?"

"For the last time, my name is Nesta – call me Nessa again and I will kick you square in the balls. Understand?"

"Understood – Nessa." Winking at me, he spun on his heel and ran out of the house, and I could hear his laughter echoing through the woods.

I couldn't believe I'd practically thrown myself at him, and what was worse was that he turned me down flat. No one turned me down – not once, not in all the time I'd been picking up men at taverns to take home for the night. It didn't matter to any of them that I was often so drunk I could scarcely stand much less remember what led to finding strange men in my bed every morning.

I didn't follow him – didn't go to the fire where I knew I would feel as out of place as I felt in Velaris. Instead I spent the night in my old bedroom staring up at ceiling, unable to fall asleep due to the thoughts running rampant in my mind. I longed for the burn of whiskey in my throat and the blessed numbness the fiery liquid granted me. Maybe it wasn't the right way to deal with the pain clawing at my insides, but it was an escape from the memories I tried unsuccessfully to bury deep within the niches of my mind. Yet for all my effort, the snap and crunch of bone against bone – the horrid sound of my father's neck snapping never dulled away no matter how much alcohol I consumed. Nor could I forget the terrified panic in Elian's beautiful golden brown eyes as she was dropped into the Cauldron to be Made into a High Fae.

Feyre expected me to get over it – to accept the life I'd been granted. She wanted me to feel grateful for the bills she paid on my behalf and to love Velaris as much as she did. She wanted me to blindly accept Cassian as my mate simply because the Cauldron deemed it so. And yes, there were moments – small seconds in time when I thought I could give myself over to loving him, but I would never willingly accept being forced into loving anyone. And what she failed to understand in her glittery happiness was that all the truly horrible things that had happened to our family in recent years had been directly caused by the Fae we were taught to fear as children. The war, the lives we'd been forced to live, the power writhing deep beneath my skin – my father's death, all stemmed from her beloved Fae. I hated her for loving them so deeply and fully that she forgot what they had taken from us – hated her for expecting me and Elian to feel the same way she did. Sure, she had painted a picture of our father to grace the walls of her mansion, but to her he was only a passing thought whenever she happened to walk by the portrait. The darkened shadow of our father's death didn't follow her through her days as it did me, leaving her free to live her blissfully happy existence.

Rolling over in bed, I faced the side of the mattress she once slept on, and my chest tightened at the thought of her ordering me to leave Velaris – ordering me as if I was one of her loyal subjects – ordered me as if I had no say in the matter at all. What right did she have to decide where I should stay or how I should live my life? She didn't have any right at all. I'd never sworn an oath to serve at her whims and I'd be damned if I bowed down to her authority or Rhysand's.

A knock came at the bedroom door, drawing me from my thoughts, and I looked up to find sunlight pouring in through the window. I'd been so deep in thought, almost as if I was in a trance I failed to notice it was well after dawn already. "Go away, Tris," I mumbled, rolling over in bed and dragging the pillow over my head.

The door creaked open, and reaching the bed in a few long strides, he yanked the pillow off my head. "Morning, sunshine," he said, sounding far too cheerful for someone who'd spent the night listening to jokes at his expense. "Breakfast is ready and we're all packed to leave."

"You made breakfast?"

"Oh, hell no," he chuckled lightly, pulling off the blankets tangled around me. "If you thought Beth's cooking was horrible, you definitely don't want me cooking for you."

"I could've been naked under those blankets," I snapped irritably, sitting up in bed and raking a hand through my tangled hair.

"I've seen many beautifully naked women so unless you had a third breast well concealed beneath your dress, I can promise you your nakedness wouldn't have even fazed me." Grinning, he winked at me as I scowled at him. "I filled the bathtub with hot water so you could take a bath before you have breakfast. Camille seemed to be about your size so I asked her if you could borrow one of her dresses, and she also gave me some scented soap so you can wash away the aroma of elephant clinging to your skin. You stink, and I can't have you riding in the wagon with the others reeking of elephant all day, now can I?"

"You insufferable cur!" I hissed, and storming to my feet, I pushed him with more force than I intended. He flew backward into the wall, his head connecting hard enough to break a hole through the wood. He crumpled to the ground, blinking hard, and that's when I noticed a smear of blood on the wall along with strands of dark hair stuck between the splintered wood. "I didn't – I'm sorry, Tris. Sometimes I forget how strong I am – that's not an excuse for what I did – I know that, but I really am sorry."

He reached behind his head, and touching his fingers to the back of his scalp, he pulled them away coated with blood. He stared at the blood dripping down his fingers for a long moment then slowly got to his feet and stumbled out the door without say a word. I didn't follow him. His friends would see to his injuries, and I didn't want to be around when they learned what I'd done. Humans feared and hated Fae – I knew that, I'd been raised with those same fears and hatred, and I'd just proven their fears were well-warranted.

The magic Tristan performed was incredible, but that didn't make him any less frail than any other human, and I needed to cement that fact into my mind if they allowed me to stay after harming him. Those thoughts raced through my mind as I bathed and changed into the soft midnight blue dress he'd borrowed for me. I'd almost forgotten the feel of human clothes against my skin, and it amazed me how even the softest of fabrics felt scratchy when compared to finely crafted Fae clothing.

I put off making an appearance at their camp as long as possible, maybe hoping they would leave so I wouldn't have to face any of them. Yet there they were waiting for me when I arrived, some of them sitting around the campfire while others practiced their acrobatic routines or played cards, but as I looked around I didn't see Tristan anywhere.

"There she is, folks," the man they called Andreas said, waving his hand at me from the table where they were playing cards, "the woman who knocked Tristan out cold with a single blow." He chuckled lightly, gray eyes lighting up with humor, and some of the others laughed along with him. "Damn, I wish I had been there to see the look on his face when you threw him into the wall."

"It was an accident and I didn't knock him out cold," I said icily, looking down my nose at him. "I'd like to apologize again so if you would be so kind as to tell me where he is –"

"Oh…yes, you did knock him out cold," Andreas said, still smiling as if he found his friend's pain absolutely hilarious. "He dropped like a stone, face planting into the ground the second he made it back to camp. Seth and Cedric took him to the village to have a healer stitch up his scalp and to give him something for the whopper of a headache he'll have for a day or two."

"It was an accident," I repeated, stomach churning as I looked from one person to the next, and some of them looked away, but not before I saw their anger. For the most part, the men found his injuries amusing, but not the women. It didn't take much to figure out which of them had slept with him at one point or another, and it took even less time to pinpoint the three women who were secretly in love with him. "I didn't mean to hurt him – I was just –"

I blinked – eyes closing for no more than a second, and when I reopened them Tristan sat grinning at me from Andreas' chair. Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I looked behind me to find Andreas with the same annoying grin on his handsome face. Yes, there was a wide bandage wrapped around Tristan's head, proof that he had been injured by me, but it did little to lessen the anger tightening in my chest.

"Hello, darlin," Tristan drawled, oblivious to my anger at being made a fool of in front of his friends. "In case you're wondering, it took fifteen stitches to close the gash you put in my head. Luckily I have a high threshold for pain or I might be as angry as you are at the moment."

"How did you – you weren't there a second ago – you weren't, and Andreas wasn't behind me…how did you do it?" I managed to get out between stops and starts.

"If I told you, it would ruin the illusion," he said, his eyes lingering on the painfully average looking blonde they called Beth. He curled his finger and she hurried to her feet and went to sit on his lap. Arrogant bastard. "Unfortunately, since you took so long taking your bath – you look lovely, by the way – I'll have to catch up with you and the others after I take care of a few errands that I can't put off."

"Take me with you," I blurted out before I could stop myself. Yes, he was a pain in the ass and an arrogant prick, but at least I felt comfortable enough to be myself in his presence. "Not that you didn't deserve it, but I'm sorry I cracked your thick skull open," I added, keeping my eyes focused on the small scar beneath his right eye and not on Beth nibbling at his throat or his fingers weaving through her hair. "If you force me to stay with your – family, I promise you they won't be happy with you when you return."

"Then I guess you're going with me," he said, looking none too pleased about spending time with me.

"But you said I could go with you," Beth complained, glaring at me before she whispered something in his ear.

A deep frown pulled at his lips and they grazed against her ear as he whispered his response. Pushing up off his lap, she stormed away and two other women hurried to their feet to follow her. He watched her disappear into the woods, cursing under his breath as he returned his focus to me.

"We should get going," he said, still frowning at the thought of spending the afternoon with me instead of her. He stood from his chair and curled a finger for me to walk to him, but I stubbornly stood rooted to my spot. Unlike his little chippy, I refused to debase myself by following his silent commands. "What a stubborn little wench you are," he added, closing the distance between us. "If you want to go with me, you are going to have to close your eyes, Nessa."

"My name –"

"I don't care what your name is – close your damn eyes," he cut in, and this time it was a command. "I ruined what could've been a very memorable day to take you with me. So the very least you could do is shut your eyes for me." Reluctantly, I closed my eyes and felt his arm slip around my waist to pull my body flush with his. "Keep them closed until I tell you to open them, okay?"

I nodded, and even though I was tempted to peek when some strange force tugged hard at my insides and heat scorched my skin, I kept my eyes closed until he said I could open them. My eyelids fluttered open and narrowed in surprise at the sight of a rundown manor overgrown with thick thorny vines. Tristan put his fingers to his lips for me to stay quiet, and within a wink from him a beautiful dapple gray stallion appeared with a red bow around its throat. The stallion and me forgotten, he stood staring at the manor for several long moments as if he expected someone to come outside to greet him – no, not someone…Cassian. I opened my mouth to speak, but he pulled me into his arms, burying my head in his chest before we vanished again.

This time when we reappeared, I hastily pulled away from him, doubled over and threw up the meager food I had left in my stomach from the night before. "Sorry about that," he said, and I could hear the smile in his husky voice. "Not really. Call it payback for the headache that's viciously pounding in my head at the moment."

"Cassian –" I heaved again, spewing acrid bile onto the grass.

"Yes, he was at the manor," he said, confirming my suspicions. "I left a letter with a friend to assure Cassian you are fine. I also basically told him and the others to give you the space you need and you'll go home if and when you are ready to go home and not a moment sooner."

"They're going to come after you and your friends," I warned, wishing he had let me write the letter instead, knowing they would see him and his family as a threat. "You should be afraid, but you're too stupid to realize that while you play at having magic, doing your little tricks to amaze a crowd – they are power personified. If my sister doesn't crush you her mate will or he'll let Cassian do the honors. Anyone of them could strike you down with ease, and yet there you stand with that dull-witted grin on your face."

"You amuse me," he said instead of heeding my warning, and bobbed his head at the sloping drive lined with conical hedges and the beginnings of what would bloom into irises that I'd failed to notice while throwing up and worrying about the trouble I was causing him. I didn't need to see beyond them to know they hid the sight of a chateau of white marble and emerald roofs – home. He'd brought me home – not once but twice now. My throat tightened, making it almost impossible to swallow. "You left Velaris without anything but the clothes on your back, and the truth is that I borrowed Camille's dress for you without her permission so I'm hoping you left some clothes behind when you moved."

"Don't pretend you aren't aware that my sister and I were abducted by Ianthe and Hybern, and never returned to the chateau once we were freed," I said, tasting the bitterness crushing me from within on my tongue. I looked him up and down, taking in his loose black shirt left unbuttoned to show off his glorious, rippling abdomen, and fitted pants to accentuate his muscular legs and the impressive bulge of his manhood. Heat flushing my cheeks, I quickly averted my eyes and started toward the house, calling back over my shoulder, "Button your shirt, Tristan. No one wants to see that much of your body."

"I would disagree, but if you don't like what you see then feel free not to look," he said, amusement clear in his tone.

He followed at a much slower pace, but as we approached the chateau, he stayed outside allowing me a few minutes alone with my thoughts. His only request, not to take too long as we had two more stops to make before we met up with the others. I could have told him he didn't need to worry about me taking more time than what was necessary to pack a bag. I didn't. The chateau wasn't my home – not really. Tamlin had used some sort of Fae magic to make us believe Feyre had gone to live with a rich aunt, but for whatever reason his power hadn't worked on me, and I remembered everything. I remembered him busting down our door demanding a life for a life, and I remembered Feyre going with him of her own freewill.

At times I thought I was going crazy when they spoke of Feyre taking care of our imaginary aunt, and I knew – I knew when our fortune was restored and far exceeded that I hadn't lost my mind. Tamlin had bought us the chateau and brought happiness back into my father and Elian's life. Although it was all a carefully crafted lie, I couldn't help but feel grateful to him for restoring my father's faith in himself and giving him the motivation to work again. I couldn't help but feel grateful for the food in our stomachs and the pure joy I saw every day without fail on Elian's face that I'd never thought I'd see again. Those were the gifts he had given me and they were priceless beyond measure even if they only lasted a short time.

So no, I didn't hate Tamlin the way Feyre did – I didn't wish him any ill will. I'd seen the same look of horror mirrored on his face as on mine when Hybern had his men throw Elian in the Cauldron, and that told me all I needed to know. And in the end it wasn't Tamlin who got my father killed – he wasn't the one who told my father where to sail his three ships – that was Lucien. Lucien – who was sent by Feyre and Rhysand to gather forces to fight Hybern. If I hated Tamlin, I would have to hate them as well, and although everyone believed me to a cold-hearted bitch, I couldn't find it within myself to hate anyone.

"Harder than you thought coming home would be, huh?" Tristan said from behind me as I packed my clothes in one of the suitcases Elian had purchased in hopes of traveling. I turned to find him holding a wood carving of a girl with outstretched arms. It was one of the last wood carvings my father had ever done, and he had given it to me before he left on business. "He wanted you to have this – find room for it in your suitcase."

"How do you know these things, Tris?" I said as I took the carving from him and gently wrapped it up in one of my dresses to place in my suitcase. Tears stung my eyes, and I hastily rubbed them away before I turned back to face him. "You know about my mother and father – gifts they've given me, places we lived – how do you do it?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I already told you that I can speak to the dead – they tell me things – show me visions of their lives, and sometimes they ask for favors. I learned long ago not to refuse the dead their requests. It makes my life easier and a helluva lot less painful."

"What did my mother ask you to do for me?"

"She wanted to see you smile again. Truly smile, not one of those forced ones that doesn't reach the depths of your eyes, and she wants you to be happy." He gingerly grazed his fingers along the back of his head, and winced. "For some crazy reason I thought this would be one of the easier tasks the dead asked me to accomplish – I was wrong."

"I said I was sorry for hurting you," I muttered, wishing he would just yell at me and get it over with. "Did you really need fifteen stitches?"

"That's what Cedric told me when I regained consciousness. Do you want to count them to be sure?"

"No, I don't want to count your stitches." I looked around trying to decide if I wanted to take any of the pretty knickknacks I'd bought to decorate my bedroom with, but finding nothing that held any true sentimental value, I closed my suitcase.

"You don't have to go with me, Nes," he said, trying out a new nickname for me. "This is your home so if you want to stay you can. You can send word to your family telling them you decided to live here."

"I knew it," I said, facing him once more, feeling almost triumphant that he was rattled by the thought of tangling with Rhysand's Inner Circle. "You are afraid of them as well you should be. Anyone of them could tear you apart limb by limb."

"I'm not afraid of anything or anyone." He moved past me to pick up my suitcase then headed out the door with it. "Our next stop isn't far from here so we'll walk there," he informed me as we headed down the stairs. "But first I need to get rid of this suitcase." One minute it was there, and then with a flourish of his hand it was gone. After all the tricks and illusions he'd shown me, I'd don't know why it still surprised me to see my suitcase vanish. "How long has it been since you last visited your mother's grave?"

"I'm not going to my mother's grave, Tristan." I paused at the second to last step, refusing to go any further if that's where he planned to take me. "She'd not there. Only her bones are, and I have no desire to talk to bones even if they once belonged to my mother." As I spoke, it suddenly occurred to me that he never intended to take Beth with him to run his important errands – errands that all revolved around me, and I had fallen for it. "Bravo to you and Beth for your brilliant performances. The two of you actually made me believe she was furious that you chose to take me with you instead of her. How clever and cruel of you."

"You honestly think Beth couldn't have picked out clothes from your wardrobe or stood beside me when I delivered the stallion to my friend? Visiting your mother's grave was merely an afterthought." His rich chocolate eyes sparked with anger, but beneath the surface anger there was some emotion that was deeper and more profound. "I have a show to perform at an orphanage about twenty miles from your chateau and Beth planned to assist me – if she was here I would've been fucking her right now – likely in your bed, but instead I chose to bring you so you might find some of the closure you need to be able to move on."

"You were going to fuck her in my bed!?"

The crack across his face from my open hand sounded so damn loud in the quiet emptiness of the chateau, and I cringed at the sight of a red handprint blossoming on his ruggedly handsome face. He pressed his watery eyes shut, and drew in a deep breath slowly releasing it then turned on his heel and walked away – again. Twice I had hurt him, and twice he had walked away. My eyes focused on the rusty-red stain on the back of the bandage wrapped around his head as he headed for the front door and left without so much as a backward glance. He was human with all the fragility that entailed, and as such I needed to keep reminding myself that he wasn't a muscle-bound Illyrian warrior before I seriously hurt him.

I slumped on the stairs to wait and give him time to compose himself. It wasn't all my fault – the hard slap that snapped his head to the side, yes, but he had to know that having sex in any of the bedrooms in my home was a violation that I couldn't and wouldn't tolerate. And yes, if I was to be truthful it stung that he had said I wasn't his type the night before, and yet Beth he found desirable. Other than her ample breasts and the exotic tilt of her eyes, she was pitifully plain with her thin lips, slightly crooked nose and dull pin-straight blonde hair. There were far prettier women traveling with him, several eager to bed him whenever and wherever he wanted, and that made it almost impossible to fathom why he'd chosen her. It wasn't as if she had a glowing personality. Out of all of the women she seemed the most sullen and withdrawn, hardly speaking a word on the wagon ride to the human realm.

My curiosity got the better of me and I went outside to ask him why he found her so interesting, and stopped short at the sight of him sitting under an old oak tree with his hand cradled to his chest as curses spewed out of his mouth some of them directed at me. "What's wrong with you?" I said, closing the distance between us.

"I think I broke my hand," he hissed, glaring at me as I crouched beside him and took a look at his bruised and bloody knuckles. My eyes lifted to the tree behind him, and with my keen eyesight I noticed bits of skin and blood on the rough bark. A low growl rumbled in his throat. "Yes, I hit the tree a few times in anger, Nesta." Nesta, not Nessa or Nes and that set my teeth on edge. He was beyond angry – he was furious and had every right to be. "Go ahead and laugh. You know you want to."

A smile twitched at my lips, but I refrained from laughing at him. "It serves you right for daring to think you could fuck some woman in my home."

"I would've changed the sheets when we were finished."

"How thoughtful of you." I rolled my eyes, and gently pulled his good hand away from the injured one.

"What are you doing?" he asked, eyes narrowing on me suspiciously, and jerked his injured hand away from me. "It's already broken no need to do any more damage."

"I'm going to try to heal you, you big baby. You can't very well do your sleight of hand if your hand is too broken to sleight with, now can you?"

"Fine," he gritted out, "just remember the children at the orphanage will be very disappointed if I show up minus one hand."

I'd only used my gift of healing once before in an effort to keep Cassian alive while I shielded him with my body. We both would have died at Hybern's hand if Elian hadn't stabbed him wounding him enough for me to finish the job. I wasn't even sure I knew how to heal anyone, much less that I could do it without hurting him more than he was already injured. A magician's biggest asset was their hands – every trick he performed depended on the use of his hands, and if he could no longer use them to create illusions to entrance the crowds his friends would starve.

"Do you love her?" I asked as I lightly placed one hand atop his and the other beneath it. Not that I cared if he loved her, but I hoped the question would distract him from the pain of his bones snapping back in place.

"Yes and no." A bone snapped back into place, and he breathed in hard through his nostrils and slowly exhaled through his parted lips. White healing heat emanated from my hands, soothing away the pain while fusing the bone pieces together, and in my mind I could see the tenuous threads of bone weaving together. So engrossed in my work, I scarcely heard him when he added, "Why do you want to know how I feel about her?"

"I'm just surprised is all." I shrugged a shoulder, keeping my eyes on my hand above his as I went on to say, "You remind me of the type of man who would chose one of the other prettier women in your group to be with." Another bone snapped into place. His hand trembled between mine, and his other hand tightened into a fist. "Let's face it, Tris. She's plain and you're –"

"I'm what?" he said when my voice trailed off abruptly. "Cocky? Arrogant? Vain?"

"Gorgeous," I said to shut him up, meeting his gaze briefly before I refocused on healing his hand. "Even by Fae standards you'd be considered beautiful, and that's why I didn't think you'd be attracted to a girl like Beth."

"How wrong life would be if everything was based on appearance alone. I've been with many beautiful women, and over half of them were as shallow as you seem to be. Beth, on the other hand, is a sweetheart. I can't think of one bad thing to say about her."

"I bet she bores you to tears," I said, lightly massaging his knuckles to feel for any other possible breaks in his bones. Thankfully I didn't detect any sharp edges with my fingers or my heightened senses. "Wiggle your fingers." Wiggling his fingers, he balled his hand, covered his fist with his other hand, and when he rolled them over fingers outstretched, a perfect rose rested in his palm. He handed it to me, maybe as a peace offering or perhaps a thank you for healing his hand, whichever it was I couldn't decide. Throwing it on the ground, I rose to my full height and brushed a hand down the front of my dress to smooth out the fabric. "Don't you have a bunch of children waiting for you to perform for them?"

His eyes strayed to the flower on the grass. "You don't like roses?"

"I love flowers – I don't like the man who's trying to win me over by giving me a rose."

"You're a cold woman, Nes," he said, snatching the rose up off the ground, he covered the petals with his hand. When he pulled his hand away, the rose was frozen solid, icicles clinging to every outer petal. "A frozen rose for an equally bitter cold woman." With a wave of his hand the rose vanished, and bracing his hand against the ground, he pushed to his feet. "If you're going to be my assistant at the orphanage, I need you to swear you'll try to act nice and friendly. If you can't do that, I'll take you to the wagons and have Beth go with me."

"I can be nice and friendly – I'm going with you," I said, tilting my chin defiantly. I didn't care that he didn't like me. I didn't care that he'd given up an afternoon fucking Beth to take me with him. I didn't care that he preferred anyone else's company to mine. "I didn't leave Velaris to sit in the back of a wagon while you run off to do whatever you please. You have all night every night to fuck your girlfriend, but during the day I'll be going with you whenever you leave camp. Is that understood?"

"Since I have no doubt my friends would turn on me if I left you alone with them for any length of time, I don't see how I have much choice in the matter," he said through his teeth, and he didn't look at all pleased with having to spend time with me. "But – if I do take you with me, you will have to make it clear to Beth and the other women that you have no interest in me. In turn, I will make it equally clear that I don't have even the remotest interest in you. I'll never hear the end of it otherwise."

It stung to hear the callousness in his tone. Maybe I deserved it – I knew I did, but that didn't make it hurt any less. It reminded me of walking through Feyre's mansion and seeing the portraits of everyone she loved and finding no picture of me amongst the works of art. I would never tell her how much it hurt to see with my own eyes how little she thought of me just like I wouldn't say a word to Tristan.

"If I am going to assist you in your magic show, you'll need to teach me what I need to do," I said without agreeing to his terms. Let him wonder and wait to see if I would comply with his wishes.

"Well, I'm going to saw you in half," he said, lips pressed together to keep from laughing as I drew in a sharp breath. "So basically all you have to do is get inside the box and stay very still – oh, you'll have to smile and wave at the kids…they love that."

"You're going to – you're joking, right?"

"No, it'll be great. You'll see." Now it was my turn to wait and see if he'd say it was a joke, but he didn't and the look he gave me told me all I needed to know. He was serious. "You'll be fine, Nes. I've performed this illusion hundreds of times, and those few unfortunate accidents couldn't be considered my fault since my assistant moved when I told her to stay still inside the box."

"But you told me to wave at the children. I wouldn't consider that staying perfectly still."

"You'll be fine," he repeated as if saying that I'd be fine over and over again would somehow make it true. "We should get going or we're going to be late."

"Has Beth performed this magic trick with you before?"

"Beth and every other woman who travels with me have done this illusion, and as you saw none of them are walking around with only half a body."

I hated the idea of being considered a coward if every single one of the women had willingly gotten into the box to be sawed in half, but he seemed too eager to cut through my body, and what did I really know about him other than what he'd told me himself. It could all be a lie that would end in my death if I blindly trusted him.

"Take me to the wagons, and have Beth or someone else go with you."

"As you wish."

I didn't miss the smile curling his lips as he pulled me into his arms, and told me to close my eyes. He didn't want me to go to the orphanage with him – if there was really an orphanage, making up some impossible stunt that I would surely refuse, and it worked like a charm. But on the off chance that he was crazy enough to saw someone in half, it wouldn't be me. We reappeared on a well-traveled road with deep ruts from other wagons, and he quickly let go of me as the wagons and the elephant approached. The wagons slowed to a stop, and his friends rushed out to greet him, ignoring me completely. Sparing only a few minutes to ask how the journey had been that afternoon, he then grasped hold of Beth's hand, brushed a kiss against her lips, and the two of them vanished.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for taking the time to read and a special thanks to those who have taken the time to share their thoughts with me. ;)**

Chapter Four

_Cassian_

Veritas had been stolen from the Court of Nightmares – that was the news that greeted me when I returned from the Spring Court. Naturally Keir blamed us for orb's disappearance, and demanded its return to the Hewn City immediately to which Rhysand reminded him that the city and everything within it belonged to him and to never make demands of him again. While he might have acted unconcerned about its disappearance when dealing with Keir, that wasn't the case within the Inner Circle. He'd already sent Azriel and Mor out to try to find it, and called me into the study of the mansion the second I returned.

He paced back and forth in front of the mahogany desk Feyre had picked out for him when they moved in to the mansion, raking his hands through his hair, and every once in a while he let out a low growl. I sat silently watching his growing aggravation until he finally paused in his steps to look at me. "The timing is too perfect – the magician stole Veritas. What did Tamlin have to say?"

"You don't want to know what he had to say," I said, recalling the nasty comments he'd made about Feyre and her sisters. "Tristan left a note with him a few weeks ago for me. He had everything planned right down to knowing we'd be at the show at the Rainbow when Nesta vanished. I don't doubt he stole Veritas – I just don't know how he could have gotten into the Hewn City without being detected. It's impossible. There are guards everywhere."

"And yet it's gone and so is he," he said, leaning back against his desk and folding his arms. "I don't need to remind you of how deadly Veritas can be in the wrong hands. We used it to show the mortal queens Velaris and you know how that turned out. We've all touched it at some point and if he stumbles upon the way to see beyond the visions of the last person holding it – he could potentially learn every secret we have. Every High Lord would pay any amount he asked to have that kind of information."

He didn't need to add that with Veritas in his possession, Tristan could use the magic within it to force people to be brutally honest with each other, turning friends and families into enemies and allied forces into foes. With peace between the Courts and mortal lands being tenuous at best, the last thing we needed was to have Veritas wrecking havoc and causing potential wars. "Tamlin has given us permission to search his lands for Tristan and the other thieves in his traveling show. But I think it's more likely that they haven't reached the Spring Court yet. We'll make camp at the border of his lands and when they arrive we'll be waiting for them."

"We've already underestimated him once," he lifted one finger and shook his head, "we can't make that same mistake twice. We need to work under the assumption that he and his cohorts can winnow as well as I can – which means they could be anywhere. However – however, since they came to Velaris for a very specific reason and they've accomplished that goal, it stands to reason that they crossed the Wall into the mortal lands."

"They would have to be at least half Fae to have those abilities," I pointed out, chest tightening at the thought of Nesta being a prisoner of these males and females who seemed to have a grudge against the Night Court. "Would it even be possible to have winnowing abilities without being full-blooded High Fae?"

"The mortal queens can winnow – a gift bestowed upon them by our kind, but it is highly unlikely that these criminals are related to any of the queens." Scratching at his jaw, he shook his head again. "No, if they have the ability to winnow as well as they do, they somehow stole the power from the Fae."

"Are you suggesting that they used dark magic to steal away power from our people?"

"I'm saying it's probable." His expression darkened and the ground beneath us began to tremble. "The magic he performed at the Rainbow – it was flawless. It was pure magic not illusions. He levitated above the Sidra – he made a full grown elephant disappear. They vanished into thin air right in front of us…we need to find out if any High Fae have gone missing within the past few years."

"Why would they abduct Nesta?"

"She was Cauldron Made," he stated as if that was reason enough to target her specifically. "The mortal queens were present when she was Made and that information could've slip out in front of their servants. Gossip as it is amongst humans, I wouldn't be surprised if Tristan found out about her and Elian within a few days of their being Made."

"It's not going to be easy to find out if High Fae were abducted by humans during the time Amarantha ruled over Prythian," I said and he reluctantly nodded in agreement. "Any missing Fae during the past few years would be attributed to her, and if we poke around too much we could start another war between our people and the humans."

"We'll start with Lucien – the High Fae of the Spring Court were only held captive for a few months so it stands to reason that he would know if High Fae disappeared at any point before they were forced Under the Mountain." He held my gaze, sorrow filling his violet eyes. "I'm sorry to have to say this, but it needs to be said. If they haven't already taken Nesta's powers, it won't be long before they do – without them she would return to her former human self and the reversal –"

"You don't need to finish." My wings fluttered, siphons heating up to a fiery red. "We will find her before that happens."

"Amren and the priestesses are checking the library to make certain no books have been stolen," he added, and I blew out a heavy breath. "If they've stolen any of the spell books we have stored there – we need to find out who they are and why they've targets us."

"It could take years to find out if there are missing books amongst the vast collection in the library," I pointed out, wondering if Amren's time would be better served by hunting them down. "If you believe there's a good possibility that Tristan or anyone in his group stole spell books that could be used against us, we shouldn't waste Amren's talents in the library when she could be out searching for them."

"I know you aren't going to want to hear this, but we will not know the extent of what we are dealing with if we don't do a thorough search of the library. There are spells in those books that could be devastating if ever used." He pushed away from the desk, and closed the distance between us. "Gather your armies and head to the Spring Court. Azriel and I will join you later tonight, and hopefully by then we'll have more information about our current enemies."

"Feyre won't be joining us?" I asked, somewhat surprised that she wouldn't fight anyone who tried to stop her from rescuing her sister.

"After hearing that Nesta was abducted Elian has been inconsolable and Feyre feels as if she needs to stay with her right now. She'll join us when we go across the Wall," he informed me, and from the softening of his features, I could tell he was speaking to her through their shared mate bond. "She wants me to remind you to be careful when dealing with Tamlin. He's a wounded dog – if he feels cornered he will attack."

I tucked my wings tight behind my back. "Do you think he's involved in Nesta's abduction?"

"I wouldn't put it past him to seek revenge against Feyre and myself. We've taken everything from him, what better way to get back at us then to take what is ours from us?"

"If he had anything to do with this –"

"If he's involved you will let me deal with him." It was a command spoken in a gentle tone. "He is still a High Lord, Cass. If you or any of the Inner Circle tried to harm him, he could gain sympathy from the other Courts. It would not take much for the Celestial Courts to sway in his favor, and with Lucien as our emissary Tamlin could easily find an ally in Beron and the Autumn Court."

"Tamlin and Lucien were close – if he aligned himself with Beron, he would lose the only person who still cares about him. Would he risk that friendship for an alliance with the male who murdered the female Lucien loved?"

He lifted a brow. "You've seen him, what do you think?"

Raking a hand through my hair, pushing back the long dark bangs that had fallen into my eyes, I let loose a heavy breath. "I'll post guards along the border between their lands to intercept any messages Tamlin might send to him."

"You have your orders," he said, bobbing his head toward the door. "By the time we arrive tonight I expect that you'll have information about any missing High Fae from the Spring Court. Lucien always knows more than what he shares with us – don't underestimate him. If he thinks we suspect Tamlin is involved Nesta's abduction and the theft of Veritas, he'll lie to protect his friend. He's smart and cunning and his loyalty is not with us. If not for Elain, he never would have left Tamlin's side."

"Don't worry, Rhys. I know how to deal with Lucien."

I left the mansion and went to the barracks to gather an army of Illyrian warriors to travel with me to the Spring Court. Sixty males volunteered to make the trip with me, all of them itching for a fight. Not that they cared about Nesta, but they were born and bred for battle, and with the war with Hybern over with they felt useless. It was in our blood to fight and die if necessary to defend and protect the Night Court, and I almost felt sorry for Tamlin – almost but not quite. If he was involved in Nesta's disappearance, it would take everything I had in me not to tear him apart limb by limb. By Rhysand's command I couldn't lay a finger on Tamlin, but he didn't say anything about Tristan. If he harmed Nesta – nothing would stop me from slicing him to shreds, not even a command by my High Lord.

With our backs laden down with tents and supplies, we flew to the border to set up camp. Once our tents were up, I dispatched guards to patrol the border, and then set out to find Lucien. I shot into the air, wings flapping hard to cover the distance from the border to the manor in a matter of minutes. I spied him heading into the stable with a stallion he'd borrowed from Tamlin, and landed outside, tucking my wings in tight, and yet they still skimmed the top of the doorway as I entered the stable.

"Is he keeping the stallion Tristan gave him?" I said from behind him, noting how he didn't startle even though I hadn't made a sound until I spoke.

He bobbed his head at the beautiful stallion freshly brushed and eating hay in the first stall. "I tried to talk him into selling Stormbringer – he refused," he said, removing the saddle from the stallion and hefting it over the side of one of the stalls. "He doesn't know anything about Nesta's abduction. He knows Rhysand is going to blame him – that Feyre will blame him, but he swore to me that he wasn't involved."

"In my experience, most criminals plead innocent to their crimes," I said as he started to brush the dust off of the stallion. "Nonetheless, I don't want to believe he is guilty of helping them." Being a High Lord he would get away with this crime much in the same way he got away with helping to murder Rhysand's mother and sister, and there would be nothing I could do about it. "No, we believe these males and females acted without his help. The power they possessed – Rhysand wanted me to ask if any High Fae from the Spring Court disappeared in the past few years."

"Several of them," he said as he continued to brush the stallion in long sweeping motions across its back. "That's no secret, Cassian. Amrantha's creatures broke through our shields numerous times, and sometimes they made off with High Lords or lesser faeries. The same could be said for many Fae from other Courts who managed to hide from her after she trapped the other High Lords Under the Mountain." He looked at me, metal eyes whizzing. "Well, except for your Court. You never had to worry about your family and friends disappearing without a trace and you knew – you knew that they were likely murdered for Amarantha's amusement. Sometimes the males they captured would fight their captors and we'd find pieces of them and tattered pieces of clothing stained with blood."

"You're forgetting that my High Lord and best friend was trapped Under the Mountain for almost fifty years," I gritted out, anger coiling in my chest. "He saved us and the cost to him was great and terrible. So don't stand there and tell me I didn't have to worry about someone I loved disappearing from my life."

"Why do you want to know if any High Fae disappeared?" he asked, wisely choosing not to make another comment about Rhysand or the Night Court. "Does Rhysand think Tristan stole power from them?"

"It's possible these humans have found a way to steal power from us," I responded hesitantly as I recalled the illusions Tristan performed to awe the crowd at the Rainbow and how they had broken into the Hewn City without being detected to steal Veritas. "Do you think it's possible that some of the High Fae among those who vanished could have been taken by Tristan or the males in his company?"

He paused from brushing the stallion, looked up at me and shrugged a shoulder. "Sure, it's possible, but to actually pinpoint any particular Fae that might have been taken by them would be near impossible. It's not as if Tamlin made his subjects register their magical abilities to keep track of them."

"Did any Fae go missing after Amarantha was defeated?"

His golden eye whizzed as he waved a hand around the stable. "All of them disappeared, but I don't think you can blame that on the magician." A deep frown pulled at his lips. "No, that was us," he added including himself in with those who had brought about Tamlin's downfall.

"Feyre had every right to do what she did." My hands bunched into fists, siphons glowing red. "Tamlin abused her and her sisters – your mate was turned into High Fae as a direct result of his alliance with Hybern."

"I don't want to argue with you about this," he said as he returned to tending the stallion. "Stop wasting your time trying to decide if Tristan was responsible for the loss of any Fae in this Court or any other. If you believe he did steal power then you have to act under that assumption. If they are dividing this power amongst their group – how powerful could they really be? It would depend on how many Fae they have abducted which is an unknown variable. But if they have been at it for years, I would have to say they've gathered enough stolen power not to fear the most powerful High Lord in Prythian."

"Why would they target the Night Court? There are other Courts much closer to the border. Tamlin's Court is in ruins, but the others are still thriving and they have treated humans far worse than the Night Court has."

"Personal grudge?" He shrugged. "You're forgetting that Rhysand spent close to fifty years doing Amarantha's bidding – killing her enemies. It is possible he murdered someone these people cared about."

"He wouldn't have murdered humans for her," I said with a curt shake of my head.

"I didn't say he did." He crouched to clean the dried mud from the horse's metal shoes. "I said he might have murdered someone they cared about – maybe even loved, and that person could have easily been a Fae. It's not impossible for a human and a Fae to fall in love with each other." He glanced up at me. "Or this could be revenge against something you did. They did target Nesta, abducting her right in front of you – that sounds personal to me, Cassian."

"I've never harmed –"

"Yes, you have," he cut in as he wedged out a clump of dirt from between the horseshoe. "If you killed one male, you've taken away someone that people loved and cared for. But you've killed many males in battle so the likelihood that you have enemies who'd want revenge would be greater than most."

"It would have to be a female," I countered, a sick feeling churning in my stomach. "I have never killed a female in any battles I've fought."

"It was just a theory." He glanced up at me again, studying me with his russet eye. "Tristan is taunting you. Abducting Nesta – the letter he wrote to you, there is a reason for it."

"Or this could be Tamlin's way of getting back at Feyre for everything she did to destroy his Court," I countered, folding my arms across my chest. "Who's to say he didn't hire Tristan to abduct Nesta? Can you say for certain he didn't have anything to do with this?"

He hesitated for several long moments and then shook his head, long silky red hair falling loosely over his face. He brushed the bangs away, tucking them behind his pointed ear. "I don't want to believe he had anything to do with her abduction, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't possible that he was involved. We took everything from him – he has no friends, no family, and nothing to live for except the hatred he feels for Feyre and Rhysand. Left alone with that kind of anger burning him up inside it is possible that he snapped and decided to pay her back for ruining his life."

He opened his mouth to speak, but I pivoted on my heel and strode toward the manor to confront Tamlin and ferret out the truth for myself. Siphons glowing red, I pushed the broken door out of the way, went inside and headed straight for his office. I found him sitting at his desk drinking whiskey straight out of the bottle, spilling some of the liquid onto his dirty white shirt. His dull green eyes met mine briefly before he took another long pull on the bottle, then wiping his hand across his mouth he set the bottle down on the desk.

"You're back," he said, eyes flicking to each of my siphons before he lift his head to meet my gaze. "When I gave my permission for you to camp at my border, it wasn't an open invitation to drop by anytime you'd like."

"Were you involved in Nesta's abduction?" I said, siphons pulsating with the power I kept tightly leashed within them. He denied it once already, but not even Lucien believed he didn't have a hand in her abduction.

"Feyre must be beside herself with worry over her sister – no, wait, Nesta's the one she didn't like." He smiled a crooked crazed smile. "With her track record of destroying people she doesn't like perhaps you should ask her if she paid someone to get rid of her sister."

"Did you send Tristan to abduct Nesta?" I gritted out, leaning forward to brace my hands against the desk, fingers digging into the wood.

"What if I did?" he asked, resting back in the cushioned chair. "What would you do if I did?"

"I'd kill you," I said in a deadly calm tone, and in turn he laughed, unconcerned for his own wellbeing.

"Oh, I'm sure you would try." He looked me up and down, amusement briefly flitting across his face. Clawed nails punched out from beneath his skin. "Do not ever threaten me, Cassian. You would lose."

"Rhysand wouldn't lose," I said, straightening to my full height, wings flaring open.

"In a fair fight he would," he countered smoothly, shrugging a shoulder. "But your High Lord doesn't fight fair, does he? No, he'd rather slip into someone's mind and turn it to sludge than to fight fair." Grabbing the bottle off the desk, he took a healthy gulp of the amber liquid. "I will say this one more time – I did not have anything to do with Nesta's disappearance."

"Lucien believes you did and seeing as how he knows you better than anyone, I'm inclined to trust his opinion on the matter." It was a low blow and not exactly the truth, but I was glad I'd struck a nerve, the ground trembling with his anger. "Do you still care to deny it when your best friend said you were involved and perhaps even planned it?"

"I have no friends." His claws dug deep into the wooden armrests of his chair, a measure to keep himself from flying out of his seat to attack me. "Believe what you will, but my conscience is clear of any wrongdoing in regards to Feyre's sister." He nudged his head toward the door. "You may see yourself out."

"Rhysand will be arriving tonight," I informed him, tucking my wings behind my back. "For your own sake it would be wise not to rouse his anger the way you have done mine."

"Your concern is touching." He tapped at his chest above his heart. "Take Lucien with you when you leave, and don't come back to the manor again."

"Trust me when I say I have no desire to see you ever again, High Lord," I said with a mock bow. "You deserve every misery that befalls you."

"And yet Misery has chosen to torment you instead of me for a change." He scratched at the growth of beard on his chin. "I believe her to me a female – Misery. As only a female could bring a male to such low depths that he would rather die than live." He took another gulp of the fiery liquid, and swallowing it down, he added, "I wish you the best of luck in finding your own personal Misery. May she treat you with the very same care and compassion that my Misery gave to me."

"I'm glad Feyre destroyed everything you worked so hard to build," I said, turning away from him to walk to the door, but stopped short with my hand on the doorknob when he cleared his throat to have the last word.

"And that is why Misery chose you," he chuckled wryly. "You think yourself so far above me, but you are already crumbling, Cassian. The female you want has been taken from you, and you're willing to do anything and everything to get her back. But what if she doesn't want to come back – what if she falls in love with her captor? It's happened before, there's no saying it can't happen again. And if you were to be truthful with yourself, that's exactly what you're worried about the most. Human hearts are fickle – they love you one minute and hate you the next. I know that better than anyone and I pity you."

"I don't need your pity," I growled, fingers tightening around the door handle. "What happened between you and Feyre was very different from this situation. So don't try to bring me down to your level, High Lord." Done with listening to him, I opened to door and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for reading and a special thanks to those who took time to share their thoughts with me:)**

Chapter Five

_Nesta_

Three days of traveling with only short stops to rest the horses had left my bones aching, and I was almost certain I had a few splinters in my backside from being constantly jumbled about in the wagon on uneven dirt roads. No one else complained, but that didn't stop me from yelling at Tristan during each break or the driver of the wagon, earning myself glares and nasty comments from my traveling companions.

I didn't care if they were angry or if it made them miserable to have to listen to me complain, not when they stood by and snickered each night as I tried to set up the tent they'd provided for me. The first two nights the tent collapsed on top of me within the first few hours, and not wanting to try to fix it in the middle of the night, I nearly suffocated beneath the stiff fabric of the tent. Tristan found my stubbornness and unwillingness to ask for help highly amusing, a smirking grin on his face the first two mornings I'd stumbled out of the dilapidated mess I'd created while trying to fall asleep.

Feyre wouldn't have needed help. She would've figured out how to stake the tent all on her own much in the same way she taught herself to hunt and skin her kills. I could hear her voice in my head like the buzzing of a million bees, talking down to me for not being as capable as her – for not rushing out to learn how to survive on my own. And maybe that was why I didn't ask for help and refused Tristan's offer to set up my tent tonight. He watched me from his spot at the fire for what seemed the longest time before he finally pushed to his feet to saunter over to me with feline grace. I turned his offer down flat, sending him away with an icy glare.

But maybe I should have let him stake the tent, if I had I wouldn't have dragged myself out from beneath the loose folds of the fallen tent to find him sitting alone by the fire reading a book by what appeared to be a glowing orb of faelight. Although he didn't turn and acknowledge my presence, I could feel the weight of his smirk as I stretched and rolled my shoulders to work out the kinks and soreness that would definitely follow me throughout another day on the road. Cursing him loud enough to wake everyone in camp, I trudged the short distance to the fire, and slumped in the chair on the opposite side of the fire from where he sat.

His warm chocolate eyes flitted up to take me in then without a word he returned to his book. The fire snapped and crackled, sending a small chunk of burning wood through the air, landing within mere inches of his feet, and without looking up from the old leather bound book, he stomped out the flames with his boot.

"What are you reading?" I finally asked, sorely missing my romance novels. "It has no title," I added, narrowing my eyes on the worn cover of the book.

"It doesn't need a title," he whispered in a low husky tone. "It's not that kind of book."

I leaned in closer, trying to decipher the words scrawled on the yellowed pages, to no avail. "Well, what kind of book is it then?"

"It belonged to my brother," he replied, lovingly running his fingers along the faded golden edges of the book. "He died a few years ago while he was away on a trip, and although he came to speak to me after his death to tell me where the book was, I thought I'd never see it again."

"What kind of book doesn't need a title?" I asked, choosing not to comment on his brother's death.

"A book of spells," he answered without hesitation. "It was the only thing my brother and I took with us to the orphanage after our parents and sisters were murdered."

"Can I see it? I said, intrigued by the idea of a book full of spells.

"No, you cannot." A flat no, and within a breath the book vanished.

"Are you afraid I'll use one of the spells against you and your friends?"

"Well, I guess that would depend on how much you wanted to see us dead," he said, getting up to add another piece of wood to the fire. "Of course you would need the right ingredients, but you seem to be the kind of woman who wouldn't let that stop you from using one of the spells."

I lifted a brow, curiosity warring with fear of a book that gave instructions on how to kill someone. "Are you saying that it's a book of death spells?"

"Amongst other things – yes, it has many spells to bring about the deaths of anyone you harbor that kind of resentment toward." He smiled my way. "Don't worry, Nessa. I've only considered using one of the spells on you once or twice – maybe three times, but I have a great deal of restraint and that's why you're still breathing."

He was joking I could see it in the mirth dancing in his eyes as he spoke. But – but, he wasn't joking about the spells contained within the book, and that caused my heartbeat to speed up. "Who do you want to see dead, Tris?"

"No one," he answered too quickly to be believable. "No, that's not true," he added, taking a seat beside me. "I want the people responsible for my family's deaths to suffer for what they did. Too much time has passed though and I only vaguely remember their faces – I wouldn't want to murder the wrong men."

"I want to kill the mortal queens," I blurted out, recalling how they had betrayed us and stood by while Hybern's men threw me and Elian into the Cauldron. If it weren't for them and Ianthe, Elain would have been married to the man she loved and we wouldn't have been forced to live in Prythian while hated by our own kind. "My sister made a promise to me that I could kill them after the war with Hybern, but instead she made a treaty with them. She broke her promise after I did as I said I would do – help to fix the Wall, and that still eats me up inside. They are cruel and wicked women, and if I had such a spell as the one you've spoken of, I would use it on them."

"You and I are not as different as you would like to think we are," he murmured, staring into the fire as he poked the burning wood with a stick. "It is not a way to live though – living only to serve the hatred burning you up inside. I'm sure they have forgotten all about you by now, and yet you are still consumed by thoughts of them and others who have wronged you. I would say to let it go, but I haven't let go of my anger over the losses I've endured. You hate who you hate, and sometimes – not often enough, you get to see them suffer the way you have."

"How did your brother die?" I asked as I considered what he said about letting go of my anger toward the queens.

"My brother was a wanderer, never happy to settle in one place, and I guess I am the same way. He wanted to see everything this world had to offer, and it cost him his life – there are some places humans should not travel, but that did not stop him from going wherever his heart led him."

"He died in Prythian?"

Lips pressed into a grim line, he nodded. "It was a dangerous time to be traveling through their lands, terrible creatures roaming through every Court, but he couldn't be swayed from his decision to make the journey alone. I've wished since the day he died that I had found a way to keep him from going – it wouldn't have worked, he would have snuck away while I was asleep."

"One of the creatures killed him?" I said, thinking of all the horrible creatures I'd learned about in the books I'd read about Prythian.

"Yes." He nodded, raking a hand through his dark, wind-tousled hair. "I only saw vague images from my brother's last memory of the monster that tore him apart, but they are images that still haunt me."

"Did you kill it?" Even without Feyre's training and skill with a bow and arrows, I would have slaughtered anyone or anything that harmed my sisters, and yet he shook his head. "You're a coward – you should've killed it to avenge your brother's death."

"Would my brother be any less dead if I took the life of that creature?" Jabbing the stick into the fire again, sending red-hot embers scattering through the air, he added, "No, he wouldn't, but if you feel the need for revenge I won't stop you from trying to kill the mortal queens."

"You think I wouldn't do it?"

"I think you would have to have ice in your veins to murder someone in cold blood," he said, pushing up from his seat to get more wood for the fire. "Have you thought about returning home at all," he added to change the subject, eager to get rid of me. "Not that I haven't enjoyed being glared at along with all the curses you've thrown my way, not to mention the cuts and bruises, but Beth has kicked me out of my own tent because you insist on going everywhere I go. She thinks you have a crush on me, and the others are starting to talk. So –"

"I'm not leaving," I said with a curt shake of my head. "You invited me to stay as long as I liked, and I am not ready to return to the Night Court yet."

"If that's the case then you'll need to start pitching in and helping out like everyone else." Crouching to add two more logs to the fire, he glanced up at me through a curtain of dark hair. "Do you have any useful skills or were you pampered your whole life?"

"I can sew," I gritted out, fisting my hands in the folds of my lavender dress. "If any clothes need mending I can take care of them."

"Can you cook?" he said, pushing his luck.

"Better than that toad you're dating," I snapped, glancing around on the ground for something to throw at him.

"It's comments like that one right there that has gotten me in trouble with Beth." He grinned. "Tell me, Nessa, am I the first man to turn down having sex with you?"

Heat rushed to my cheek, and if he had been close to me instead of on the other side of the fire, I would have slapped him senseless. "Don't flatter yourself, Tristan. I would have just as easily offered to fuck one of your friends if they had been at my old home that first night instead of you."

"That I believe," he chuckled lightly. "Hopefully, you at least get paid for your services. No sense in giving away a good fuck for free, right?"

"I am not a prostitute," I gritted out, baring my teeth at him.

"Then stop acting like one." He shrugged a shoulder. "You do yourself no favor acting like a common whore. Have a little more respect for yourself. You're a beautiful woman, yet all I see when I look at you is dirty gutter trash."

"How dare you!" I hissed, and spying a flat rock on the ground, I snatched it up and threw it at him. He ducked to the side and the rock sailed past him and hit a tree. A low growl rumbling in my throat, I picked up the stick he had been using to poke the fire, and whipped it at him, and again I missed.

"You'll have to try harder than that, love," he chuckled, splaying out his arms to make himself a larger target. Storming to my feet, I rounded the fire in a blur of speed, cocked back a fist to slam it into his smirking face, but at the last second he caught hold of my tightly balled hand. "You didn't think I was going to actually let you hit me again, did you?"

The smugness in his tone was my undoing, and perhaps maybe I'd regret it later, but probably not – I grabbed hold of his waist and drove my knee into his favorite appendage. There was a momentary look of surprise that flickered across his face then he dropped to the ground howling in pain as he curled up into a ball. It didn't take long for everyone to throw open the flaps of their tents and rush outside to take care of their fearless leader, pushing me out of the way to get to him, and with the same smug look on my face that he gave me, I turned on my heel and went back to my dilapidated tent to get some sleep.

I'd scarcely fallen asleep, unable to get comfortable on the hard packed ground, when Andreas roughly shook me awake. "Get up," he ordered, anger lacing his tone. "It's your turn to make breakfast."

Slapping his hand away, I pushed the tent off myself, and slowly pushed up off the ground. Stretching my aching muscles, I rubbed at my sore lower back as I eyed the stack of cushioned mattresses everyone had already brought out of their tents to be stored in the in between place until they needed them again. As I stared at them, trying to decide how to ask for one for my tent, they vanished.

"Tristan decided he wants pancakes this morning," Andreas went on to inform me, and my attention turned to Tristan being babied by Beth at the campfire. He must have felt the weight of my stare on him, his eyes found mine, and he simply shook his head and returned to watching the fire as Beth grazed her fingers back and forth along his inner thigh. "He said you know how to sew – we have a pile of clothes in need of repair that you can work on today."

"I'm going with Tristan," I informed him, pushing him out of the way and heading to the makeshift cooking area to start making pancakes.

As I worked folding in the flour, eggs, vanilla and buttermilk into a metal bowl, I kept sending furtive glances in Tristan's direction, taking note of the ice pack resting between his upper thighs, and winced at the subtle groans he let out whenever he shifted in his seat. Camille worked alongside me, cutting thick chunks of ham off the bone of the pig Lucas killed the day before. She, too, kept glancing at Tristan and Beth, and every time Beth kissed him, Camille made a deep savage cut into the meat.

"We dated for a while," she whispered, setting a thick hunk of meat on a tray. "Within a week of breaking up with me, she went to his tent and he welcomed her in." She paused in her work, and looked in my direction, loose golden blond hair falling down into her blue eyes. "He'll get over it – he doesn't stay mad for long…what I'm trying to say is that I'm glad you kneed him in the balls."

"You're still in love with him?" I asked in a hushed tone as I stirred the pancake mix together.

"No," she answered too quickly to be anything other than a lie, and I let it slide because she was the only one not glaring at me or calling me names under their breaths. "She's jealous of you." She subtly bobbed her head at Beth. "Tris has repeatedly told her he's not interested in you, but all the assurances in the world fly right out the window when he looks at you in that way of his."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, glancing up to find Tristan's warm chocolate eyes on me, and yes, I knew exactly what she was talking about. My insides turned to mush as butterflies flapped wildly in my stomach. "The pancake batter is ready," I said, nudging my head toward the fire, and Lucas hurried to put the grate over the heated coals.

He didn't say a word to me as we ate, and I made certain to keep my eyes on my plate the entire time. The others grumbled and complained about not having enough syrup to sweeten the pancakes, and I agreed with them. Having eaten Fae food, I would never be completely satisfied with human food again, but at least it stopped the rumbling in my stomach.

I let the others wash the dishes and went to the stream to wash up while they busied themselves packing the wagons. I made quick work of washing my hair and scrubbing my skin free of the fine layer of dust and grime that had built up from traveling on the dusty, rutted roads. Thankfully I didn't spend much time riding in the wagon or I would have given in and returned to the Night Court to be banished to the Illyrian Mountains with Cassian.

I'd just finished donning my favorite black dress with silver thread woven the material that shimmered in the sunlight, and had started brushing the tangles from my wet hair when Tristan cleared his throat from behind me. I kept on brushing my hair as if I hadn't heard him, not wanting to fight with him so early in the day.

"I'm sorry," he said, surprising me enough that I shifted on the log I'd perched on to look at him. "I shouldn't have called you dirty gutter trash."

"I accept your apology," I said, returning to brushing my hair.

A long pause and then he said, "Don't you want to apologize to me?"

"Not really." I pressed my lips together to keep smiling as a low growl rumbled in his throat. "From the way you dropped to the ground last night, I'm surprised you're up and walking around today."

"It was not without extreme effort on my part, I assure you." Another long pause. "Beth wants you to leave – they're taking a vote right now, but it doesn't appear favorable for you."

"Then override their decision to force me go home," I said, tossing the brush onto the pile of dirty clothes. "You made a promise to me that I could stay with your group as long as I wished, and I'm not ready to go home yet."

"I would, but I'm beginning to fear I won't survive your stay with us," he said with a tinge of humor in his tone. "After last night I seriously doubt I'll ever be able to father any children."

"I didn't realize you were such a big baby, Tristan. An Illyrian warrior could take a hard hit to the balls and still continue to fight for hours afterward."

"How many Illyrian warriors do you know who have fathered children?

"Well, none actually," I said, pushing up off the log and brushing a hand down the length of my dress. "So, where are we going today?"

"I was going to go see Tamlin," he informed me, casually leaning against a tree. "If I buckle and let you stay, I need to know what trouble it's going to cause me in the long run."

"You're a fool, Tris," I said, shaking my head. "You left a message with Tamlin for Cassian – the Night Court is probably swarming all across Spring Court lands. They'll catch us."

A smile twitched at his lips, he lifted a brow. "Are you afraid?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," I said, tilting my chin. "If you're so eager to die, I want to be there to watch."

"What a cruel woman you are," he said with a wink and a smile. He didn't really mean it, and that was a first for me. Even Elian, who I loved dearly, thought of me as a cruel, hard woman, and the thing was that I needed to be cruel and hard to protect her – to protect Feyre. Although Feyre never recalled a time before she picked up a bow and arrow and went out to hunt, I took care and watched over her and fought anyone who tried to harm her or Elian. As she grew up and decided she was the savior of our family, silently lamenting her life and hating us for not being more like her, I turned my attention and concern solely on Elian and I did my best to keep her safe. "Promise me that if I die, you won't spit on my dead corpse."

Instead of responding to his request, I closed the distance between us, and laced my fingers through his, and closing my eyes we vanished only to reappear seconds later inside a crumbling manor. Glass crunched beneath us, and I silently thanked whatever gods might be listening that I had shoes on or I would've sliced my feet to ribbons. Tristan bobbed his head toward the darkened hallway beyond the grand staircase, and still holding my hand, he started forward in that direction. Deep slashing claw marks littered most of the walls, broken furniture and shattered antiques scattered around every darkened room I peered in to, and for the first time since I met Tristan I hesitated. Maybe he would be welcome in Tamlin's crumbling manor, but as Feyre's sister, I certainly would not. Sensing my reluctance to face the man Feyre destroyed in her need for revenge, he tugged me forward until we came to a partially open door, and pushed it open the rest of the way.

The strong aroma of whiskey and sweat that permeated the study assailed my senses, and although Tristan didn't seem to notice, I gagged. As we stepped into the darkened room, lit only by a few candles scattered here and there about the spacious study, curtains drawn tightly shut to keep out the morning sun, I spied a blanket and pillow on the couch where he likely slept every night. Then my gaze traveled to the man who had once been beautiful in a way that only Fae could be beautiful and ethereal, and drew in a sharp breath at the sight of the haggard and bitter man he'd become.

"You haven't shielded your home as I strongly urged you to do," Tristan said by way of greeting, crossing the expanse with me in tow, and he took a seat in the leather chair opposite of Tamlin at the desk. "You look horrible, my friend. It's time you put the past to rest, and started living again."

"You're going to get caught," Tamlin rasped, pushing a half full bottle of whiskey aside. "Rhysand and an army of Illyrian soldiers make camp wherever they feel like it on my lands. They will catch you if you don't leave."

"Have they crossed into the mortal lands yet?" Tristan asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, not from fear of Rhysand, but from the injury I'd given him the night before. It was on the tip on my tongue to ask if he needed another ice pack, but recalling how his friends wanted to send me home, I kept my mouth shut.

"It's not as if they hold meetings to tell me what their plans are," Tamlin said, grasping hold of the bottle to take a long pull of whiskey. I eyed the amber liquid, and my mouth began to water. I hadn't had a single drink, not even a taste since I left Velaris. For whatever reason, not one person in Tristan's group drank, and if they did it was done in secret. "But I have overheard that Cassian and Azriel have crossed the Wall several times to search for you, to no avail. You're shielding your location from them, aren't you?"

"The less you know about us, the better off you will be," Tristan said, studying Tamlin for a long moment. "You need to stop drinking so much and pull yourself together. They can only take from you what you give away freely. You only got knocked down – you didn't die so pick yourself up and start over."

"He doesn't have it in him to start over," I said, resting a hand on Tristan's shoulder, a caring gesture not lost on Tamlin. "He'd rather wallow in self-pity than to work to fix what my sister did to him." I glanced at the bottle of whiskey then looked to him. "You're a coward, High Lord."

"Careful what you say," Tristan said, "you are speaking to my friend, and I won't have anyone call him a coward – especially not the sister of the woman who ruined everything he worked to build."

"I will not be forced to hold my tongue by you or anyone else, Tris!" I snapped, fingers digging into his shoulder. "I will speak my mind plainly and if it bothers him then that's his problem not mine. If he had any backbone at all he would've ordered Rhysand and his army off his lands, but instead he sits here drinking himself into a stupor." A low growl rumbling in Tamlin's throat, the ground began to tremble and quake, the High Lord's feeble attempt to intimidate me, but if he thought a little earthquake could frighten me into silence, he didn't know me at all. "You want to get even with my sister? If so then rise above what she did to you – take a bath for starters, you reek."

"You do smell pretty bad," Tristan agreed, pointing at Tamlin's sweat stained shirt. "I find it less painful to agree with her." He shrugged, and in spite of the reminder of how many times I'd hurt him, he smiled. "It'll take work on your part, but there is no reason you can't convince your people to return to the Spring Court."

"They think I'm a monster – males and females I've been friends with for centuries think I'm a monster because of her." He glanced up at me then tilted his head to the side to look toward the door, and I turned to find Lucien standing in the doorway, gaping at me and Tamlin in turn. His golden metal eye whizzed and then honed in on me.

"Don't even think of alerting them of our presence," I said, squaring my shoulders. "My sister wanted to send me away – she ordered me to leave, and so I did. My only regret is not taking Elain with me when I left. Perhaps I will return to Velaris one day, but not if I am forever subject to Feyre's whims and commands. If you must tell them something – then tell them that."

"Cassian is worried about you," Lucien said, breaching the doorway instead of running to find Rhysand to make him aware of our presence in Tamlin's home. "They aren't going to stop searching for you, and when they finally find you," he pointed to Tristan, "they won't care that you were treated well by your supposed captors." He tapped at his pointed ear. "It wasn't only you that they absconded with – they are keeping in quiet, but I heard that your friend stole a very powerful magical object. They will kill him and everyone involved to get you and Veritas back."

Veritas – the orb Feyre and Rhysand brought to the chateau to prove to the mortal queens that Rhysand wasn't the wicked High Lord he pretended to be to keep Velaris safe. Why would Tristan know about Veritas or for that matter want to steal it? I hadn't seen it, but that didn't mean he hadn't hidden it within the between place where they kept the feathered mattresses and supplies that didn't fit in the wagons.

"They would have to find us first," I said, and Tristan looked up at me with a faint grin. "It must kill them that for all their training and skills, they cannot find a group of traveling humans. It's almost laughable, really."

"Well, it won't be long before they do," Lucien stated too confidently not to be a warning. "Cassian and Rhysand are on their way here to question Tamlin again. I told them it was a waste of time – that Tamlin wanted nothing to do with any humans, but I guess I was wrong about that."

"We should go, Nessa," Tristan said, pushing up from the chair.

"Her name is –"

He can call me whatever he wants to call me," I said, cutting Lucien off. Although I didn't particularly care for the changing of my name to suit Tristan, I wanted Lucien and Tamlin see that we were on good terms – friends even, and if one of them did happen to slip up and tell Rhysand we were here, they could say that I wasn't Tristan's prisoner. "Let's go, Tris," I added, and hearing Cassian and Rhysand talking in the hallway, I grasped hold of his hand and together we vanished.

**Author's note: If anyone is interested, I've put my original novel "Scars" that I co-authored with a friend, up on Wattpad. Please take a look and let me know what you think. ** my. /q1nyUs7Jk0


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for reading and a special thanks to those who took the time to share their thoughts with me. I'm sorry for the long delay, but I've been dealing with some medical issues and haven't felt up to writing. Thanks again :)**

_Chapter Six_

_Nesta_

"You stole Veritas?" I said the moment we reappeared at the edge of a winding river. Or at least he stood at the edge. Glancing down at the frigid water rushing over my shoes while his feet remained dry, I glared at him. He'd done it on purpose, reappearing in this exact spot so I would get soaked. "And you ruined my favorite dress and shoes!"

"Well, you ruined my favorite appendage so I guess we're even." He grinned as he pulled me out of the water. My eyes narrowed on him, and his lips pressed into a grim line. "The golden-eyed man – will he betray Tamlin?"

"We shouldn't have gone to the manor, Tris," I scolded, shaking my hand free of his. "Lucien is my sister's mate. If they threaten to never let him near her again, he will betray Tamlin."

"Then perhaps Lucien needs to disappear until you are ready to return home." It wasn't a threat, more like a promise to do whatever was necessary to protect Tamlin from the Night Court. "To answer your question – I didn't steal Veritas. You can't steal something that belongs solely to you – no, I just took back what was mine."

"How did you remove it from the Hewn City without being caught?"

"Magic," he chuckled, nudging his head for me to follow him as he set off toward the woods. "Or more precisely the art of misdirection. While the High Lord of the Night Court was watching me perform, Andreas and Lucas retrieved Veritas from its hiding place."

"They'll kill you and your friends to get it back."

"I'm sure they'll try, but they'll have to find us first."

"If Veritas was your reason for going to the Night Court, why did you offer to help me escape? They never would have suspected you if you didn't take me with you."

"Maybe I wanted them to know I stole it back from them." He shrugged unconcernedly. "Not all magic belongs to the Fae, and yet they feel as if they have the right to hoard it, keeping it from those who could benefit from its power."

I paused in my steps near the line of trees at the entrance to the woods. "Prove to me that the Fae stole Veritas and I will make certain it is never taken from you again."

"It was stolen from me the night my parents and sisters died – any proof I had vanished in the fire that destroyed our home."

"Then you have no other choice but to return it to the Night Court," I said with a curt nod. It was a lie, I knew it, but I couldn't just come right out and call him a liar. "When I return home, I'll bring it with me and say I took it."

"No." Lips pursed, he shook his head. "The High Lord of the Night Court will never see Veritas again."

"You're a stubborn fool, Tristan!" I snapped, throwing my arms out wide in frustration. "I'm offering you a chance to survive this ordeal, and you're too stupid to accept my help. If you don't care about yourself, fine, but what about your friends? Do you really want them to die?"

"My friends can protect themselves."

"Right, like your brother protected himself," I said as he started to walk into the forest. It was a low blow, but it needed to be said. He swung back to glare at me. "They'll die just like he did if you don't return Veritas."

He closed the distance between us in a few long strides, and grabbed hold of my hand, pulling me forward into the woods. "Stay out of my personal business, Nesta. It doesn't concern you."

I opened my mouth to argue further, snapped it shut. He was right. It wasn't any of my business, and it wasn't as if his friends didn't know he'd stolen Veritas from the Night Court. If they didn't care about their own wellbeing, why should I? They hated me, wanted to get rid of me. It would serve them right if Rhysand's army crushed them into the ground.

Neither one of us particularly eager to speak to each other, we traveled through the woods in a strained silence. My shoes squished with every step I took, my stockings soaking wet, but I pretended not to notice. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how uncomfortable it was to walk in soggy shoes. Not to mention that the hem of my dress was cold and damp as it swished against my legs.

All-to-soon we made it through the woods and came upon the wagons. They slowed to a stop, and without a word to Tristan, I climbed into the first one, taking a seat beside Camille. "You came back," she whispered, surprise clearly evident in her tone. "Beth isn't going to be happy, but good for you. Don't let them push you into leaving."

"I won't," I said as the other members of Tristan's merry band of thieves hopped down out of the wagon to stretch their legs. "I need to change out of these wet clothes," I added, hoping she would take the hint to leave. Her blue eyes strayed to the hem of my dress. "Your leader thought it would be hilarious to reappear at the river." A smile twitched at her lips and with a nod, she pushed up off the bench to leave. I caught hold of her arm to stop her. "Tristan stole a very dangerous magical object from the Night Court."

"I know," she whispered, glancing down at my hand on her arm. I let go and my arm fell loosely to my side. "Did he tell you why he took it?"

"He said it belonged to him." I blew out a heavy breath. "He's going to get you and the rest of your group killed. Maybe Rhysand and Cassian would let your family go if I told them I stole Veritas and went with you of my own free will, but Tristan won't listen to reason. You need to make him understand this is the only way to save him and your family."

Brow furrowing, she bit her lower lip as she contemplated what I said, and after a long moment of indecision, she finally nodded. "Not that it will do any good, but I will try to convince him to return Veritas to the Night Court."

"If he refuses, you need to steal it from him and bring it to me. Understand?"

"Yes." Swallowing hard, she turned to jump out of the wagon, landing gracefully on the ground below.

I didn't want to return to Velaris, not yet anyway, but at least it would be on my own terms this time. Tristan would be furious. I knew that to the depths of my soul – I didn't care if he was angry. It wasn't right for him to endanger the lives of his friends by provoking the Night Court into action. Not that I cared about any of them.

Rummaging through Tristan's leather bag I found tucked under one of the wooden benches, I pulled out a black tunic to wear along with a pair of black pants and a belt. Quickly shedding my dress, I slipped the tunic over my head and tugged on the pants, cinching them tight with the belt. The collar of the tunic dipped into a deep V exposing more of my breasts than I would have liked, but it wasn't as if any of the men in our group would even notice if I walked around camp naked.

But Beth noticed my choice of clothing the moment I exited the wagon. She excused herself from the conversation she was having with Tristan and Andreas to storm over to me. "What the hell do think you're doing? Those clothes belong to Tristan – go change now!"

Her outburst drew attention to us. My eyes locked on Tristan as he licked his full lips and let out a low whistle. His gaze met mine and hunger ignited in those beautiful brown eyes of his. My heartbeat sped up, thundering in my ears. I looked to Beth and smiled. "It doesn't appear as if Tristan minds me wearing his clothes."

The slap came hard and fast across my face, startling me. Tristan forgotten, my hand flew up to cover the stinging mark on my cheek.

"I want her gone now, Tristan!" Beth shouted and several others voiced their agreement with her. "No one wants her here! Send her back to live with those Fae dogs where she belongs!"

"I want her to stay," Tristan replied huskily, setting loose a flurry of butterflies in my stomach as a murmur went through the camp. "Nessa…." He held out a hand and I rushed over to him, lacing my fingers through his, and together we vanished only to reappear moments later in the woods. His fingers slipped free of mine and he turned his back on me. "Are you purposely trying to make my life a living hell, Nes? Beth is never going to let me back in our tent after this –" He turned back and waved a hand over the tunic. "You do realize most of your breasts are exposed, right?"

"Well, if I didn't, you certainly did." I folded my arms across my chest, drawing his attention to the swell of my breasts. "You want me, Tris. I know you do and so does everyone else. Beth wouldn't have been so damn upset if she didn't know to the depths of her soul that you prefer my company to hers – you want me, admit it."

He hesitated a long moment before shaking his head, dark bangs falling into his eyes. "You need to stop throwing yourself at me. I already told you how I feel, Nessa. That hasn't changed. It never will."

He was lying – he had to be. I saw the way he looked at me when he said he wanted me to stay. "It's just sex, Tris. I don't love you any more than you love me – I have a mate…or at least I think I do. Everyone believes Cassian is my mate, and I do feel something for him. It's not love. I'm not sure I'm capable of loving any man, but I know what I want – and right now what I want is you."

His eyes widened slightly at my admission. "Cassian is your mate?"

A frown pulled at my lips. "Did you hear what I said? I want you, Tris – I've wanted you since the first moment I laid eyes on you and I know you feel the same way."

"I heard you." He groaned, raking a hand through his silky dark hair. "If your mate ever found out – you are a complication I can't afford to have in my life." His gaze strayed to the deep V of the tunic, desire welling in his eyes once more, and he blew out a heavy breath. "No, Nessa. I didn't take you away from Velaris to bed you. I did it so you would be free to decide what kind of life you want to live." With a snap of his fingers, a book appeared in his hand. He held it out to me. "The pages are blank – fill them with a story of your own making."

"I don't know how to write a story," I said, eyeing the golden edges of the book, tempted to snatch it out of his hand. I loved to read, but that didn't make me a writer. "No one would ever read a story I wrote – it's ridiculous."

A rare gentle smile lit up his finely chiseled face. "I saw the way you looked at the spell book last night and thought maybe you'd like to try your hand at writing a story." He shrugged. "You could write about a beautiful woman abducted by a sexy magician and how he continuously outmaneuvered the Fae trying to capture him."

"He would meet a tragic end – cut into tiny pieces with an Illyrian blade, his head on a spike at the border of the Fae border as a warning for all to see."

"You are a cold woman," he chuckled lightly, placing the book in my hands. "You'll still be expected to help cook some meals and mend clothes, if not the others would beat your Illyrian warrior to punch, slicing me to ribbons while I slept, but otherwise you are free to write your first masterpiece."

"Unless I'm with you on one of your many excursions," I reminded, not about to let him race off and leave me to face his friends alone. It wasn't that I was afraid of them. Nor did I care if they didn't like me. My reason was simple and yet very complicated. Once Camille retrieved Veritas, I would return to the Night Court and never see Tristan again. I didn't know how I felt about that. "I promise I won't make any more sexual advances toward you – I'll leave that for you to do next time."

"How gracious of you." He grinned and winked at me. "We will be performing at the castle of one of the mortal queens tomorrow," he added, pausing to gage my reaction. Anger swelled up inside of me, memories of how they stood by while Elian was thrown into the Cauldron flooding my mind, stabbing at me like daggers. "If you still want to see them dead for what they did to you, I won't stop you."

"You couldn't stop me," I gritted out, heat flushing my cheeks. "Someone needs to suffer for what happened to Elian, and if this is my only chance for revenge before the Night Court catches up to us, I'm going to take it."

"Revenge will not change what happened to you or your sister, Nessa," he cautioned, framing my face in his warm hands. "More than most, I understand your anger, but promise me you'll think it through before you do something you might regret later."

"I won't regret it."

"If you do this, you will effectively put a permanent end to the tenuous peace between the humans and Fae. If that is what you want, I will help you get close enough to the queen to end her life." His calloused thumbs grazed along my cheeks, a tender gesture from a man who felt more for me than he cared to admit. "My friends – my family can't be involved. You will have to wait until they have left the castle grounds to murder her." His gaze met mine, and his lips dipped into a frown. "If you are caught – I do not know you. That's what I'll say if I am detained and questioned. Understand?"

"I understand that you're a coward," I huffed, dropping the book and grasping hold of his hands to pry them off my face.

"No, I'm a survivor, love," he chuckled. "Don't get caught. It's as simple as that."

"I won't get caught," I hissed, sorely tempted to slap him hard across that handsome face of his. I refrained – for now. "And when I make it out of the castle without incident, you will set up my tent every night without complaint. Understand?"

"If you make it out of the castle alive, I will join you in your tent every night without complaint," he rejoined, a challenge he believed he wouldn't have to follow through on.

"Beth won't be happy when she sees you entering my tent."

"Then I'll hope and pray you don't make it out alive."

"Although I'm certain I'll be severely disappointed, I looked forward to finding out if you're as good in bed as you seem to think you are."

Even though I insulted his male prowess, he threw back his head and laughed, the deep, rich sound of it once more setting loose the butterflies. "You are incorrigible. You really are."

"Do we have a deal, Tristan?" I said as he continued to laugh.

"Yes, we have a deal," he said between chuckles.

"Good, then we will seal it with a kiss."

"Like I said - Incorrigible." And with that said, he vanished, leaving me to scream in frustration.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks for reading. If you are enjoying please let me know...**

Chapter Seven

_Cassian_

A week had come and gone and still we were no closer to finding Nesta or the men responsible for her abduction. If Tamlin knew anything about where they were headed or why they'd taken Nesta and Veritas, he didn't utter a word of it to us. Not that we could trust anything he said. With his mind in a constant drunken fog from the large amount of alcohol he consumed to deaden his pain, any information he might impart would be questionable at best. Yet that didn't stop us from making daily visits to the manor to question him extensively.

Every time Rhysand gave Tamlin the courtesy of sending Lucien ahead to warn him of our arrival, likely in hopes that the High Lord would wash up and put on a fresh pair of clothes. The stench in the one room of the manor he occupied nearly gagged me every time we were forced to visit him, and yet the extra time was wasted on him. From Lucien's spot on the couch, sitting on the opposite end of the sweat-stained pillow while carefully avoiding the blankets half-draped onto the floor, he shrugged a shoulder. His eyes traveled from Rhysand to the High Lord of Sweat and Drunkenness and back again. Another shrug.

"These daily interruptions of my life are becoming tiresome, High Lord," Tamlin said, draining the dregs of the bottle of whiskey in one long swallow. Another bottle appeared to replace the empty one, and without care of the mess he was creating, he sent the empty bottle sailing over our heads to shatter against the wall. "As I have said for the past week ad nauseam, I have no idea where the magician took Feyre's sister. Moreover, you have searched my lands to such an extent it boards on obsessive. I assure you, he is not hiding her under a rock," a lazy, drunken smile, "or perhaps he is. He is, after all, a magician."

Rhysand casually tucked his hand in his pocket, the epitome of elegance and grace. "If you want us gone then help find the magician and his cohorts. You don't fool me, Tamlin. Maybe you can fool Lucien with this," he gestured at Tamlin's dirty clothes and matted hair, "pathetic drunken act of yours, but not me. For all your efforts to drink yourself to death, you will not find a shred of sympathy in me for you."

Although I agreed with him, Lucien winced at the coldness in Rhysand's tone. "Tamlin's right," he spoke up in defense of his previous High Lord. "We've search every inch of the Spring Court multiple times. Illyrians fly overhead continuously while we search the ground below, and there has been no trace of them at all. They aren't here."

"I don't know what more you expect me to say," Tamlin said as he pulled the stopper out of the bottle and took a healthy swig of the fiery amber liquid. "If I had the resources – sentries to send out to help in the search," he laughed bitterly, "as you can clearly see I have none to spare so you are wasting your time and breath on me."

"Why did Tristan give you the stallion?" Rhysand asked instead of rising to the bait and pointing out that the destruction of his court by Feyre was well-deserved.

"Keeping the stallion makes you look very guilty," I spoke up, tucking my wings in tight. I'd already warned him not to keep the stallion but he stubbornly refused to get rid of it.

"Perhaps, unlike you, he understands the meaning of words like 'kindness' and 'compassion'." He shrugged a shoulder. "Just a guess," another long pull on the bottle, "if we're done here, I have work to do."

I bristled at the flippant dismissal, and opened my mouth to tell him what I thought of him, but Rhysand lifted a hand to silence me. "We will remain stationed on your lands until Nesta is found, but keep our distance from the manor from this moment forward unless new information points us back to you. Is that acceptable to you?"

"Sure, whatever," he laughed and rolled his eyes. "You know the way out," he added, gesturing toward the door with the bottle he couldn't seem to let go of.

"Take a bath and put on some clean clothes, Tamlin," Rhysand said, and I wondered if he slipped into Tamlin's mind to make it an order he couldn't refuse. "And stop drinking so damn much before you end up killing yourself." And there it was, the compassion he felt for the enemy who'd save not only his life but also the life of his mate.

XxXxXx

_Lucien_

How I managed to keep from drawing Rhysand's suspicions to me as I sat listening to him question Tamlin yet again, I couldn't begin to fathom. If he'd broken into my mind, he would have seen the truth I hid from him and Cassian, and that truth would have stung. Nesta didn't want to go back to Velaris. She seemed perfectly content to roam the mortal lands with the magician and his traveling companions, and Tamlin respected her wishes. Not that it would have done him any good if he said he'd seen them and that Nesta didn't want to go home.

Not that he cared about Nesta's happiness, but he was protecting the magician and I couldn't figure out why. From what I'd gathered, they'd only spent a few hours in each other's company, not enough time to form a bond of friendship and loyalty, and yet he chose to let Rhysand's forces invade his lands rather than telling him they were in the mortal lands. "Why are you doing this?" I asked when a clear explanation of his behavior failed to come to me. "You don't owe Tristan any loyalty and you hate Feyre and her sisters. It makes no sense to protect him and it'll only serve to cause you pain in the end."

"Is it so hard to believe that I am in desperate need of friends?" He sighed and with a wave of his hand, his dirty clothes vanished and were replaced by a clean pale green tunic and tan pants. His hair, no longer matted, drank in the warm glow of the candles, and he looked – powerful, not the beaten male everyone believed him to be. It was all a carefully constructed lie to fool his many enemies into believing he was not a threat to them. "Why didn't you tell them that Tristan was here?"

"She wasn't his prisoner." I shrugged as if it was no big deal to keep the whereabouts of my mate's sister and secret from the people who were looking for her. "And more importantly, I didn't want them to have another reason to hate you. Whether you chose to believe it or not, I am still your friend."

He studied me a long moment, green eyes sharp and clear, not the eyes of the drunk male he pretended to be. "When I came to Feyre's aid at Hybern's camp and then later gave a kernel of my life force to save Rhysand, I foolishly believed that they would leave me in peace, but Rhysand has no intention of ever letting go of the past. He stops by on occasion with the sole intention of tormenting me. So why should I raise a finger to help him find Feyre's sister? If I did they'd somehow manage to twist it around to where I would be to blame for everything."

"You're right," I conceded, knowing Feyre and Rhysand well enough to see the truth of his words. "But that doesn't mean you should blindly trust Tristan either. By leaving that note with you and giving you the stallion, he drew their attention to you. He had to know the trouble it would cause to involve you in whatever plan he has, and he didn't care. Maybe Nesta doesn't want to go back to Velaris, but he didn't just take her from the Night Court. He stole a very powerful magical object and we need to help them get it back."

"I'm sorry, Lucien, but I can't help you." He sighed and shook his head. "This isn't my fight and Tristan is not my enemy. I will not interfere or help him in any way, but that is all I will offer the Night Court unless they prove to me beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is a danger to all of Prythian."

"By then it could be too late."

"Too late for who?" He lifted a brow and waved a hand around the den, gesturing at the blankets and pillow on the couch. "Not me. I have nothing more to lose. No one can take from me what I do not have. Perhaps your High Lord and Lady should have considered that before they wished nothing but misery upon me, but in a way it is liberating not to have to care about the welfare of others."

I had warned Feyre not to kick a dog when it was down, and now he was the only one who could get close enough to Tristan to find out where he'd taken Nesta and Veritas. "You don't mean that, Tam. It is deeply ingrained within you to protect people, and –"

"And what good did that bring me?" he cut in, swiping his hand across the desk sending the bottle of whiskey crashing to the floor. "Those same Fae that I protected and defended fled without even giving me a chance to explain, and for what reason? Yes, I made mistakes, but you did, too. As have everyone else, and yet I am the only one who has suffered and lost everything for them."

"You aren't the only one who's lost something of value," I said, and pushing up from the couch, I moved to stand in front of his desk, broken glass crunching beneath my boots. "I lost something, too. I lost my home and my best friend, and I regret it every damn day."

"You ran away from your home and betrayed your supposed best friend, and that is on you, Lucien, not on me. And what makes it all the worse is that you knew what Feyre was doing, you knew she was actively trying to destroy my court from within, and by leaving with her you finished what she started. So don't stand there pretending as if you lost anything of great importance because if I meant anything to you at all you would have stayed and helped me see the mess I was creating by trusting the wrong females."

"You may not have realized this, but you aren't someone who listens to others," I gritted out, hands balling into tight fists. "If you don't like what someone is trying to tell you, you snap at them, and you've gotten away with it for the simple fact that you are High Lord. If you were to speak to me, and I blew up a room around you, you'd be wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. Granted, you were not like that before our time Under the Mountain. Yes, you have always been hot tempered and prone to bouts of melancholia, however that changed into something truly frightening after we returned to the Spring Court. I didn't know how to help you, and so I left you. It was wrong to do – I know that with every fiber I have in me. So I'm asking you to forgive me with the promise that I will try my damnedest to be a better friend to you in the future, but that goes both ways, Tamlin. Your people didn't leave because of Feyre – they left because you stopped trying to be better than your father, and started acting like every High Lord who ruled before you."

"Are you finished?" he asked in a strained tone, and when I nodded, he pulled open the desk drawer, and picked up an iron ring with a strange scrolling design embedded into the metal. "Tristan gave me this ring in case I was in need of pleasant conversation. It'll take you to where he is, but it is not like winnowing. You will go alone, and if you are even half as clever as you seem to think you are, you might be able to convince him to return Veritas and Feyre's sister to the Night Court."

"Maybe I should give the ring to Rhysand and let him deal with Tristan."

"It won't work for him or anyone else I do not trust." He held out his hand for me to take the ring. "Take it, Lucien. If not I will destroy it as I should have done when he gave it to me."

Reluctantly, I took the ring from him. "If I don't come back –"

"You will," he interrupted before I could ask to make sure Elain knew I tried to rescue her sister for her. "There isn't much I am certain of anymore, but I do know that you will live a long time, Lucien." He bobbed his head at the ring resting in my palm. "Now put it on and go wherever the ring takes you before I change my mind."


End file.
